Let's Hear It For Spirit!

When I was little I would constantly read my parents' yearbooks (and then my older sister's when she entered high school). I had them  memorized - not exaggerating - and by the time I was 10, I could tell you exactly what I was going to every year that I was a Scot. I believed that the number of pages listed by my name in the index was an indicator of my school spirit. So, it is time for me to admit it:

I have school spirit. 

(Lots and lots and lots of school spirit.)

I did not inherit this, my family-members were not obsessed like I was. 

But I have always been a "jump into the deep end" kind of girl and I do not apologize. 

If I were to calculate the number of hours I spent in that school, 

it would be a crap-ton of hours (that's the official measurement, BTW). 

And if I were to calculate the blood [lots, including a broken nose, a broken arm, and a knee surgery], 

sweat [literal buckets full], 

and tears [oh man, the true believers weep hardest] well, it would be incalculable. 

 

Now that I have a Scot of my own, 

I have found myself 

completely thrown back into the fervor. 

No. The fever. 

It's horrifying for my son. I'm not sorry.
His sisters will endure the same.



I have no idea if any of you have ever experienced this type of mania, 
but if you have I would like to welcome you into the fold. 

Please do not be embarrassed. My obsession got me through high school. 
It drove me to achieve things I never thought possible and led to me to try new and exciting things.

So, in honor of Iron Horse Week, and the fact that I will never wear orange and black. NEVER.

I say to you:

S! S! S-C-O! O! O! O-T-S!
S-C-O! O-T-S!
SCOTS!