So the other day, we were at a basketball game and my son’s team was getting the crud kicked out of them by another team with this one kid that was about a whole 7 inches taller than any of the other kids. He was good. But the team he was on was piling up the fouls faster than you could count them. Our kids didn’t really have a chance. The game was good and our kids held their own as much as they could until the final buzzer. It was such a fast paced game that I didn’t even keep up with the score. I was just glad it was over.

So we walk across the court to where the team is waiting – since the bleachers are on one side and the kids and coaches are on the other side of the gym. The coach is telling the kids how proud she was that they played a clean game and that even though they lost on the scoreboard, they were still winners. Great talk, coach. Anyway, after her little post-pep talk she looked at me and said that she needed to talk to me. Immediately I started running through all the possible things that my kid might have said/done to cause this special “talk” time. And as a parent, you can always tell when your kids have gotten you into this kind of predicament. It’s usually a combination of embarrassment, frustration and completely being over it all at the same time. With my kid, these talks seem to be pretty regular, since he says things that he has given absolutely NO thought at all to.

I mosey over to the side with the coach and she tells me that my son had said something that really upset her and that she felt like she had to confront me with it. (Oh no. Here it comes. I can only imagine at this point what he might have said. But nothing that I was imagining even came close to the level of stupidity of what she was about to tell me.)

COACH: He told me that his whole family is racist…….. ((Uhhhhh, come again??!) and this is his coach who has three mixed race children. Great.)

ME: …….crickets……(Standing there with my eyes popping out and my jaw on the floor, hoping she’s about to tell me that she’s just kidding and that my son is really a great kid.)

COACH: Yeah, when so and so (the tall, exceptionally athletic black kid) fouled so and so, he said “See, that’s why my family is all racist.” (At this point I am beyond embarrassed. And pissed. If there had been a hole, I totally would have crawled into it and died.)

ME: Oh, my gosh. I am so sorry. I don’t know why he would have said that, but I will definitely have a talk with him. (By this time my son has come over to see what was going on. So I tried to communicate my dissatisfaction by glaring at him in that “you are totally about to get it” kind of way that mothers learn to perfect as their children get older.)

She accepted my apology and we said goodbye and headed out to our vehicles. My husband had overheard the conversation and my son knew he was in deep doo-doo. So as soon as we are safely inside the vehicle away from prying ears, I lay into him with all the “What the heck is wrong with you?!””Are you frigging kidding me?!”, “That was one of the dumbest things you have ever said!”, and “If you are going to say something that stupid, don’t drag the whole family into it!” and all other parenting “advice” that I can muster. (See, this is exactly why some species eat their young.) Once he realized what the word RACIST meant, he was completely embarrassed. And remorseful. Apparently he thought it meant that you only like “certain people of other races”. Not exactly. I told him how hurtful what he had said was to everyone and reminded him of how many friends – and family members – we have of other races and that that kind of thinking is completely out of line. I went on to explain all the awful things that racism causes and how he is never ever EVER to say something that ignorant again. Hopefully that will be the last conversation we ever have to have about the issue. But probably not. He’s a kid. And kids have no filter – even when they don’t know exactly what they’re saying.