Destroyed by a Basketball Tournament

So, today is the "March Madness" tournament for Danger Boy's third grade basketball squad. (Yes, I know, but the gym is booked up for March, and "January Madness" doesn't have quite the same ring, does it?)

I promised, cross-my-heart promised, a really-really-really-mean-it promise, that I would go to this tournament. And just for extra oomph, I called Miss Seven and my godson to ask them to come along. They're pretty excited because their alternative plans for this evening would have been playing in the kiddie care room at the racquet club while their parents get in a game or two. Sugar highs and cheering for little boys who can't dribble, pass, or shoot -- yes, I can see where that would be the better alternative.

So I'm all set. I have little snack bags packed with blue jelly bellies (leftovers from the winter blues party last weekend), Capri Suns, tissues, advil, pirate bandaids, single dollars for the concession stand, notepads and colored pencils and stickers (in case of boredom -- theirs), and -------

Crap. I don't have any socks on the needles.

I can't take the Fulmar sleeves because they're too complicated for that environment. Ditto the Fair Isle bag, which requires charts. I haven't cast on the sleeves for the cabled cardigan, and I need to find my notes on how to do the flippy-uppy short rows in order to even think about it. Branff -- I need different needles. The pink sweater is at the seaming stage, no good for working in bleachers. And the Catherine Parr is too heavy and cumbersome to work on without good supports under my elbows.

That leaves St. Brigid, which I want to re-swatch on 6s. I can do that. It will take me through maybe the first period of the first game. And then what????

No rational knitter would expect any other rational knitter to get through an entire third grade basketball tournament without knitting, would you? Or, to speak the lingo of the day, can I get a by on this one? How about if I promise, really-really-really-mean-it promise, to finish the pink sweater on Saturday before casting on St. Brigid Sunday?

(Ahem. Note to Mr Puffy and other interested persons: I'm thinking snickets.)