The occasional late fee aside, you rarely get to see the cost of procrastination other than in the price of the mental stress it creates.

Lucky for me, I now have a cash register tape that sets the exact cash value of dallying: $26.36. I’m hanging that receipt on the fridge, lest I be tempted to fiddle again.

I found out late Wednesday that I had to take snacks to Boots’ soccer game Saturday. Thursday, I forgot to pick up anything. Friday, I started to go to the commissary after school but decided to put it off until after Big Guy’s practice later that night.

At practice, though, a tooth ache hit. Not just a little “oh, there’s a slight pain in my mouth” tooth ache either. It was more like someone had hooked a car battery to my molar. I gave birth to a baby without taking so much as a Tylenol, and it didn’t hurt as much as this did.

I moaned through the hour-long practice. I rushed the guys into the car. I growled as they took agonizing seconds to buckle their seat belts. “Hurry up, guys. I need aspirin now.”

And in the process I drove past the commissary, missing my last chance at affordable junk before Boots’ 9 a.m. game. It didn’t even register at the time – I just wanted to get home.

When I woke up the next morning, the tooth didn’t hurt but heart palpitations had set in. Ohmygawd. It’s my baby’s first soccer game and there aren’t going to be any snacks. We rushed to the one open shoppette – that’s the military equivalent of a convenience store, and there’s a reason those are known as “stop and robs.” Boots picked out chocolate milk at $1.50 per bottle and  chocolate cupcakes at $3.09 an eight pack.

Emergency snacks for Big Guy – I always take something in case the team snack is something he’s allergic to – and a coffee for me rounded out the bill.

“This has to be the most expensive snack in the history of soccer,” I muttered.

“It’s not,” the clerk assured me. “We spent $40 once for hot bagels when I was in Wisconsin. It was really cold that day.”

She made me feel almost $14 worth of better.

The irony is, I object to the entire notion that every sporting event has to have a snack. And here I was hauling in the biggest heap of garbage I’ve seen since someone toted a decorated sheet cake and ice cream to a game during Big Guy’s first season.

I have two remaining snack dates this season, and the commissary has cases of CheezIts on sale for under $8. I’m going to pick one up today, because according to my math, $4 per game is way cheaper than $26.36.

Copyright 2010 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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