‘Tis The Season…

…for soccer.

There’s something absolutely terrific about watching the kids play soccer on a fall evening.  I love all the running and the kicking and the cheering and the talking to friends on the bleachers and the shouts of, “Mom!  Have you seen my water bottle?  I threw it in the grass RIGHT THERE, and I can’t find it!”

I don’t know why moms are supposed to know where everything is, at all times, but we usually do.  Unfortunately, I had zero-point-zero knowledge tonight of where the water bottle was hiding.

I popped off approximately three million pictures on my camera this evening, and I’m in the running for the LARGEST AMOUNT OF BLURRY PHOTOGRAPHS TAKEN AT A SINGLE SPORTING EVENT contest.  I’m sure you can vote for me on a Facebook page for it.  I’ll let you know if I snag the gold medal on that one.

So here are a few of the MORE CLEAR snapshots from tonight, and then I really have to go to bed, because listen.  Thing 2 woke up at 4:50 this morning.  That’s FOUR-STINKING-FIFTY, also known as THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.  I went into his bedroom and said, “Son, we are not farmers, and unless you’re a farmer or a donut maker, there is no GOOD REASON why you should be awake now.”

Except he had a good reason, because he looked at me and grinned THE GRIN.

It’s the grin he gives me when he has pooped.

So yes, people… I dealt with poop at 4:50 this morning, and then we were just wide awake.  If this happens again, I’d be happy to head outside and feed your chickens or gather your cows up.  Making the donuts, though, is something I’m going to pass on, because there’s all that flour and mixing and hot oil, and I’m already breathing into a paper sack just thinking about it.

When we got to the field, the girls attacked Thing 2.

(Don’t worry.  He loves these girls!)

And then the boys demanded equal rights, and they stole Thing 2 away from the girls…

Do y’all understand now why Thing 2 thinks that he’s a twelve-year-old?!  Also?  I love the way he’s looking at Kellen there.

Thing 2 LOVES the boy’s friends…

…even the nutty ones.

And it’s not every man who can wear his hat inside out and still look fashionable, but I think that baby of ours is pulling it off.

There’s the boy and Nichole battling it out over the soccer ball.  And do you know what happened?  Well, Nichole ended up stealing the ball away and scoring on our team!

Sadly, I clapped loudly, because she’s a honey, even if she does play for our competition!  I have to cheer for everyone.

Thing 2 eventually got bored with the game, so he decided to pick grass.  He was so fascinated with all the grass picking that he flat-out refused to look at the camera for me.  He was on a mission to mow that section of the playing field with his chubby little fingers!

And here’s the usual crowd of suspects:

I know.  I say it all the time, but the boy has been blessed with SOME FRIENDS!  I adore this little wolf pack.  They’ve grown up together, and I can honestly see them tailgating before a football game together when they’re all grown men, with kids of their own.

I just hope that the boy’s kid shouts out, “Dad!  Hey, Dad!  Where’s my water bottle?!  I threw it RIGHT HERE!  I can’t find it!”

Happy Tuesday night, folks.  I’m heading straight to bed now, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that we don’t act like farmers in the morning.  If the chickens are still asleep, then it’s just best that we’re ALL still asleep.

Words to live by.

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