Fevers, drama, headaches and other good times.

Trying to get everything ready for tomorrow's opening ceremony for AYSO is going to send me into an early retirement.  Jordan's going to have to put me into a home, where I can play bingo with the help of someone in a white coat while I drool on myself and laugh at nothing.  I get a call this afternoon: "Hey, Callie?  It's me, Bambo.  You know, from soccer?".  Right.  Thanks for clarifying.  I have so many Bambo's in my life, it sometimes gets hard to keep them all straight.  Once we established his identity we got down to the business of soccer, or at least the behind the scenes of soccer.  Apparently, Angelina's uniform finally came in (cutting it kind of close for tomorrow's activity) and erring on the side of caution, the company sent 13 uniforms for her.  Better safe than sorry, right?  What they lack in quality and timeliness, they make up for in sheer numbers.  You want uniforms?  Here's a case.  I need to pick one of the uniform's up and get it to Angelina before noon.  They sent my coach's shirt in the wrong color, and in a child's size medium.  Yeah, I wish- try again, funny guy.  We had a game scheduled for tomorrow, but no one knew what time it was supposed to be, since it was listed as TBA on the schedule.  Well, no one announced it, so we canceled it.  I'm actually really proud of this decision, it's one of the first rational things they've come up with this season.  The banner that I was told to order was finished this afternoon but, for reasons that I will list later, I was unable to pick it up.  Then Bambo informed me that I really don't HAVE to have the banner, but it would be nice.  Thanks, buddy.  You tell me after I fork over the money for it.  Oh well, it's done and after I track it down in the morning we are going to display it with pride.  Then I find out that the games that I was informed would all be on Saturday mornings are mostly on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.  Thank you for letting me schedule things in my week before you tell me this.  All the parents on my team are feeling the same way.  I feel like such an idiot when I have to get hold of them all to say, "Oops!  Sorry, they changed it again.".  And the photographer who has a contract with AYSO was rude to me on the phone, so I complained and am using Tara Huish Photography instead, with Bambo's blessing.  Except, when the other guy heard he lost business, he freaked out somewhat and started a voicemail stalking campaign asking me to please call him back to set up a time to take my team's picture.  No thank you.  You should have been nicer to me.  This guy is apparently a big shot in the community, and knows EVERYONE.  If he doesn't take your picture, you don't get it in the newspaper etc., and AYSO has been trying to figure out a way to get away from him for awhile now.  The problem is, that he's so in touch with who's who in town, that he doesn't even need to bid on the AYSO contract anymore.  They just hand it to him while grinding their teeth.  And I've ticked him off.  When I step on toes, I go for the biggest feet around.
All of this needs to be straightened out by noon tomorrow, and the boys have chosen today to get sicker than sick.  Jack's chest makes a death rattle when he coughs, and Mitch has a fever of 102 with Tylenol. He's laying on my lap right now, just whimpering.  After I failed at apple butter, I got caught up with the kids as they got worse and I didn't go pick up the banner in time, so I've got to go in the morning after I get the uniform.  Jordan has to work tomorrow until 2, so I have no one to watch the boys during the opening ceremony and I'll have to ask for an assistant coach.  I really hate that.  I hate the idea of dumping this historic mess on someone in the eleventh hour, and just saying "Good luck, let me know how it goes!"  Heather is fabulous, though and volunteered before I really had to ask.  Since she's the one I've been venting to about the day to day screw ups, she's already apprised of the situation and is still game to cover for me.  That's friendship, right there.