If you want to know what springtime in Small Town is like, let me show you this snapshot from Thing 2’s soccer game last night:
That lake in the background is not supposed to be there, because that is a SOCCER FIELD and not a NATIONAL PARK FULL OF NATURE. All of our snow, from all seventeen of our winters, is now starting to melt, and you can bet that it’s working its way into basements and filling up low spots in soccer fields, all across town.
Also, when you park at the soccer fields, unless you have the favor of the Lord, you will park thirty-six miles away from the grass and hike in. It’s because everyone else in Small Town is also trying to park for a soccer game, in the same spot. You will encounter all kinds of disgruntled drivers who simply give up and abandon their vehicle, right in the middle of the parking lot, and WHO EVEN CARES? We just drive around their Ford Taurus and understand that they’d simply had too much, as they tried and tried to find a legitimate spot to park. We’re an understanding town like that.
Thing 2 and I parked in Costa Rica, and then we trudged over hills and through valleys, as we walked into the fields. And THAT, my friends, is when we found ourselves on the wrong side of that lake.
That lake that shouldn’t have been there.
There was no way to cross it, without getting wet. Our only options were to walk through it… or retrace our steps to the main road, hike North for twenty-three miles, and then make a westward turn, coming in to the field from the very opposite direction and adding an entire marathon to our Fit Bit tallies. You can guess which option Thing 2 and I chose.
I’ve never watched an entire soccer game in soaking wet socks and shoes before, but I did last night. By the time I got home, my toes were wrinkled raisins, because no one ever said that the mothers in Small Town, USA are afraid of crossing a pond on foot. I expect that Princess Kate would have done it, too, had she needed to get to Prince George’s soccer game. She and I are quite alike.
This little blonde fellow in the purple jersey is one of Thing 2’s friends. When he realized whose team we were playing, Thing 2 immediately stopped dribbling the ball, LEFT the ball, threw his arms around his buddy and gave him the biggest hug ever recorded in the history of soccer. It touched the hearts of mamas all across the sidelines.
I feel it’s exactly what would have happened in professional soccer. Hubs did encourage Thing 2 that MAYBE hugging our opponents could be done at halftime, when the band is playing and the fireworks are going off, instead of while you’re driving the ball downfield toward SCORING FOR YOUR TEAM, because TURNOVER. Apparently leaving the ball behind to hug a friend results in the other team taking possession of it.
Thing 2 ended up with two shots on the goal last night, and each one hit the goalpost and ricocheted out of bounds. When he made his way to us after the game was over and he’d shook hands with the other team and made his way through the snack line, Thing 2 said, “My goals weren’t goals. They bounced off, but look! Somebody’s mom brought Capri Suns for snacks!”
And THAT, my friends, is exactly how kindergarten soccer should go. You should be happy to play, whether you’re playing the game on a field or in a pond, and you should be more concerned with hugging your friends and finding out that your favorite beverage is on the snack menu, than you are about scoring more goals than the other team did.
Hubs will disagree with me completely. Hubs will say that the most important thing is that we had eight points and they had one.
We like Hubs anyway.
Y’all have a good weekend.