Summer draws to a close. There were no fancy camps for the school-aged kiddos; just plain ol’ hangin’ out at home with the sibs and Mom for ten. long. weeks.
Oh, and soccer.
This, the final weekend in August is the AYSC Stinger Cup and (I’m proud to say) my eight-year-old daughter’s team has made the semi-finals. Better yet, SHE is VERY excited. In fact, earlier this week, in one of those rare, quiet moments, she actually (quite out of the blue, I might add) confessed to, and I quote, “loving soccer”.
I have a kid that “loves” a sport?
How COOL is that?
Maybe it’s because I was never naturally athletic. Maybe it’s because I preferred books to balls (still do, if you know what I mean.) Maybe it’s because I grew up in a household with two ree-donk-u-lous jocks; where, literally, dinner would be rushed so my dad and brothers could watch the Celtics and the Lakers duke it out for bragging rights on Christmas Eve.
I just. Never. Liked. Sports.
So, yes, I get all warm and fuzzy to think of my daughter involved in a team sport.
And LOVING it.
GO SKY BLUE TEAM!
[Sidebar: Five-year-old son’s team did not fare so well. But he’s so gosh-darned happy-go-lucky that the medal he got for mere participation was all the acknowledgement he needed.]