Squish My Sauce

The very millisecond that my hand touched his bottom was the exact moment it became a very uncomfortable situation.

The young man was a super fit, 16 year old, high school track star- and a teammate of the teenager. I was an over 40 mother with an eager, outstretched arm, and a hand that was fully cupping a 16 year old boy’s rear end.

I knew it was wrong.

But I did it anyway.



He was going to squish my sauce.





I really couldn’t stand for that.



After spending Saturday morning at the boy’s cold and rainy soccer game, I was to spend the afternoon at the teenager’s cold and rainy track meet. I arrived at the track meet, still chilled, drive-thru burrito in hand. I sat down in the stands on a cold metal bench, directly behind the track coaches. Wishing I had remembered to bring a blanket, I took my burrito out of the bag. In the bottom of the bag were 4 tiny plastic cups of hot sauce. As I searched the crowd for the teenager, I removed the lids and laid out my 4 cups of hot sauce on the bench beside me. I was unwrapping my burrito when I spotted the teenager, who had just landed flat on her bottom in the sandy long jump pit.

I grabbed the first cup of hot sauce and poured a good third on the top of my burrito. I liked the hot sauce, and I knew that today, that hot sauce was going to help keep me warm.

The burrito was fantastic. The hot sauce was warming me up. As I watched the teenager get ready for her hurdle race, I poured some more sauce on my burrito. I was glad I had gotten 4 tiny cups worth. Today, especially, I would need it all.


The super fit, 16 year old track star, a teammate of the teenager, walked down my aisle toward where I was sitting. He wanted to talk to the track coaches sitting in the row in front of me. He stopped just to my right and leaned forward to get the coaches attention. They began speaking to each other. The super fit, 16 year old track star sensed that his conversation was going to be a long one. He decided to sit down next to me. He decided to sit down directly on my remaining 3 1/3 tiny plastic cups of hot sauce.


I watched as time then slowed down. I knew I had entered an alternate slow motion reality. I saw the teenage boy begin to sit. I turned my head to the right to see his bottom approaching my precious, my sauce. I turned my head to the left to see that I still had a fair amount of burrito left. I turned to the right again, toward the almost seated track star. I felt myself panic. I felt myself acknowledge an inappropriate attachment to my hot sauce. I felt a brief moment of confusion and shame, knowing full well what I was about to do.

I saw the track star’s bottom approach my hot sauce. I saw my arm shoot out. I saw my hand, for some reason open and palm up, attempt to protect my hot sauce.

And the very millisecond that my open and palm up hand touched his bottom was the exact moment it became a very uncomfortable situation.

I yelled out an unintelligible, “Ahhhhhhrrrrkkkk….ahh mah …ht sce!!!”

He jerked up a tiny bit and then and hovered the most uncomfortably smallest amount above my hand.


He turned his head to the left and looked at my hand. And then he looked at me. He said calmly, “OH. WOW.”


I yelled out a semi-intelligible, certainly embarrassing mini shriek, “Ahhrkk….it’s my HOT SAUCE! I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to get it on your…um….shorts. I’m sure that would have been uncomfortable.”

The super fit, suddenly supremely suave, 16 year old, high school track star turned to me and said, “Ahhhh….whatever….all my events are done…..it’s no problem. Who knows? It probably wouldn’t have bothered me…..at all……..I mean………………thanks.”




I did finish that burrito. And I used every last one of those rescued hot sauce cups. The teenager was pleased with her track meet. Until I told her I had grabbed the bottom of her teammate.




The supremely embarrassed teenager says only her dad is allowed to come to the next track meet. He’s sitting all alone. And he’s eating before he gets there.








Check This Out!



I’ve put it off for months. My mother-in-law gave it to me for Christmas. But finally, I’ve read, The Shack by William P. Young. Now, keep in mind, I’m not a joiner. I don’t like jumping on the bandwagon. I’ve avoided reading this book for many, many months.

However, YOU, yes YOU, should read this book. If only, because, the husband hasn’t yet and I need someone to talk to about it. So, if you’ve read it. Tell me what you thought of it. I’d really like to know. If you haven’t read it…hurry up and do so.

How to Clear a Stadium In 10 Easy Steps

1. Pull the boy out of school early to attend the teenager’s first track meet of the season by pretending he has an “appointment”.

2. Persuade the boy that sitting still for 2 ½ hours really will be fun by bribing him with saturated fat and high fructose corn syrup.

3. Drive just a bit over the speed limit, hit only green lights and get lucky finding a close parking spot because after all, the teenager is running the first event of the meet and you are not allowed to be late.

4. Haul the video camera, digital camera, hand held games, books, sunscreen, water, blanket, extra coat, hat, sunglasses, the paper with the order of events on it, and all of the boy’s bribery food from the parking lot to stadium.

5. Find a seat in the crowded stadium near the largest group of people you can find.

6. Cheer on the speedy teenager in an appropriate parental manner that will not embarrass her in any way.

7. Be somewhat inattentive as the boy begins a coughing and sneezing fit like none seen or heard before.

8. Appear shocked as you realize that the boy is only managing to cover his bodily emanations about 52% of the time.

9. Look empathetically apologetic toward the people as you watch them quickly gather their children and their cameras and their own bribery food and scurry to the other side of the stadium, glaring at you in harsh judgment the entire time.

10. To ensure that there are no stragglers left sitting around you, encourage the boy to replace the word, “achew!” with the words, “swine flu” when he sneezes.


Check This Out!

This week at the Slightly Exaggerated home office, we have been smelling the lilac bush, eating a lot of sun dried tomatoes and searching for 3/8 OD aluminum tubing. The lilac bush smells great. The tomatoes taste great. And the tubing connects the old AC condenser to the transmission cooler lines that go to the radiator so that the AC condenser can now magically become a heavy duty transmission cooler instead of the radiator so that the transmission will not overheat because of the super loose stall converter. The Slightly Exaggerated home office highly recommends that you try to find your own lilac bush and your own jar of sun dried tomatoes. Slightly Exaggerated can not claim any responsibility for injuries sustained if you decide to attempt your own tubing project.