We opened up the spring soccer season in Small Town last night with the cutest goalie ever.
And by ever… I mean EV-AH!
The boy had a Round Robin soccer tournament last night, where all the teams in his age bracket get together and play a fifteen minute game against every other team. It’s a ton of fun to watch, because it’s fast-paced and lively, but it also ruins the dinner hour.
Because by the time you get home, it’s pretty much time for the Witching Hour, when Thing 2 fusses because YES! HE’S TIRED! But low! It is just a titch too early to put him to bed. And then there’s the issue of dinner, because WHAT WILL YOU COOK AT THE LAST SECOND, BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T PREPARE AHEAD OF TIME FOR THIS?
For the record, I actually read the Williams-Sonoma catalog this week. I consider it to be an enormous accomplishment, because I am an AVID reader. I read, and I read, and I reeeeead! Since Thing 2 has arrived at our house, the last thing I actually had time to read was the dosage directions on the back of the bottle of gas drops. “Dosage for infants under ten pounds.” That was us. We are under ten pounds, and we do not burp successfully. And THAT is what I read. So reading the Williams-Sonoma catalog was a big deal for me, because WOW! I had thirty-six seconds to pull that off this week.
And yes, that’s a bit of a tangent, because what I really wanted to say is that I was really taken in and — dare I say it? — QUITE IMPRESSED with all the new kitchen gadgetry for spring, and the recipes! I read them and recommitted my life to domesticity. I said to myself, right there with the catalog in my lap, “I will cook this Chicken Fricassee With Morel Mushrooms And Thyme! I will cook it, and I will be the woman from Proverbs 31, because Hubs will rise up and call me blessed.”
And then I remembered that Hubs HATES-LOATHES-DESPISES the mushrooms, so he’d probably just rise up and call me a crazy woman that eHarmony could have warned him about, if eHarmony existed in the olden days when we met, for ruining his dinner with cultivated fungus. But no matter. I read that catalog, and I have rededicated my life to cooking.
So last night, after soccer, we came home. We didn’t stop at Jimmy John’s. We didn’t grab a take-and-bake pizza. We. Came. Home. And Thing 2 was fussing, because he’d just been at the soccer game for over an hour and a half, and he was exhausted! And hungry! And he wanted Mama to rock him! And then I sighed and said, “Can’t my family rise up and call me blessed when I throw a twelve-pack of hard shell tacos from Taco Bell onto the table? Can’t they???”
(I’m pretty sure the boy would. The boy loves a good taco. Heck, the boy even loves a BAD taco.)
I persevered last night though. I gazed in the refrigerator. And I gazed in the pantry. And I gazed in the freezer. And then, because it was the Easter season, we were saved. Dinner was going to be easy. The boy had a basket that was plum full o’ chocolate.
Okay. Not really. SORT OF I thought that, but not really. We used the leftover eggs from Sunday, and I mashed them, and I added mustard and Miracle Whip Light, and we had us some egg salad sandwiches. The bunny’s colored eggs totally saved dinner at the last moment for us.
I was telling y’all about soccer, before the rambling set in. I blame the sleepless nights for that.
The boy loves his coach this year. LOVES him. He runs soccer practice like an Army drill sergeant, and the boy comes home sweaty and grinning. He has FINALLY found a love for soccer. I played soccer every year while I was growing up, and I had always hoped that the boy would adore kicking a ball like I did, but so far he just hasn’t. Until Coach John.
Coach John asked the boy to play goalie for EVERY! GAME! last night, and the boy looked a bit shocked, because goalie has never been his strong suit. But, because COACH JOHN ASKED, the boy put on the goalie jersey, and he stepped into the box.
And, people, I am here to tell you that our boy blocked every single shot that an opponent took on him last night! Every! Single! One! They played five games. The boy’s team won three games, by a score of 1 to 0 in each game, and then they tied two at 0 to 0. And Team WOW! THOSE ARE REALLY BRIGHT JERSEYS! handed out donuts for scores to all the opponents.
Donuts. As in ZERO, ZERO, ZERO, ZERO, ZERO.
Because of that adorable goalie!
And the answer is YES. His goalie jersey really IS on backwards. Hubs and I suggested that maybe — MAY! BE! — he would want to turn it around, and the boy would yell from the box, “The neck of this dumb shirt irritates me! It’s scratching my neck! This is the only way it’s comfortable!” And really? Shouldn’t a goalie be comfortable?
It just goes to prove what I was saying last night. Unlike the cute neighbor boy, our boy has zero-point-zero concerns for fashion. Comfort will trump fashion every time, and a good black cape will trump comfort every time. Either way, fashion is the least of the boy’s concerns in life.
He gets this trait from his dad. Hubs’ side of the closet is organized by Good Jeans, Somewhat Good Jeans, and Jeans To Wear When You Crawl Beneath The Suburban To Change The Oil. His shirts are hung up and organized by Love It Because It’s Under Armour, Sort of Love It Even Though It Isn’t Under Armour, and My Wife Bought This One For Me But I Don’t Like The Almost Invisible Lilac Stripe That Runs Through The Plaid So I Don’t Ever Wear It Because Real Men Don’t Wear Lilac, Even If You Need A Microscope To See That It Really IS Lilac.
My life with them involves some stress in their wardrobe choices.
But behold! The cute goalie!
As luck would have it, I remembered to bring my camera, but I only had my SHORT LENS with me. The telephoto lens, which is… you know… what a person needs in a soccer game, was at home. Sadly, my short little lens didn’t accomplish much from the sidelines.
But short little lenses are quite good at taking pictures when your subject matter is right in front of you.
Because look! There’s Tavy! She helped rock Thing 2 during all the games last night. She is pretty much a Professional Baby Rocker. Plus, she’s cute.
Go ahead and say it.
WOW! THOSE ARE SOME REALLY BRIGHT YELLOW JERSEYS!
(At least our children can run in the streets after dark and be seen by oncoming cars and the space station. They pretty much glow like they’ve been plugged in while they’re running soccer plays. They actually look like glow sticks once they’ve been snapped.)
And here’s the Duo of Trouble. Kellen is on a different team this year. His shirt is a respectable green. It’s very understated and subdued. Sadly, he won’t be seen by traffic if he decides to run the streets after dark.
(Mamas, lock up your daughters.)
And that, people, is all that I have for you tonight. I have to quickly PREPARE and PRE-PLAN dinner for tomorrow night now, because DID Y’ALL HEAR? I am on the cooking wagon again. And then I have to get myself into bed and attempt to sleep for a couple of hours, because Thing 2 is an hour ahead of me already! And goodness knows, he’s going to be awake shortly, thinking he needs a little milk.
And apparently I am the Milk Lady, in addition to being the gourmet cook who once read a Williams-Sonoma catalog.
Have a great Wednesday night.