As Gigi would say, "Wayell," (because she's southern at heart, and "well" obviously has two syllables), "we play soccer, and we wore toodle skirts and danced."
It's soccer season; it's dance season; it's swim season, party season, Easter, patio season, and the end of the school year. At work, it's travel season; and lately, it's 5 a.m. yoga season. (My yoga teacher tells us that you can tell a lot about a person's attitude toward morning by the way they describe a 5:30 a.m. class. If you call it 5 a.m., you're not a morning person; if you call it 6 a.m., you're up with the birds anyway. Yoga class is at 5 a.m.).
We've kicked a few balls this season already. So far, RJ's team is undefeated, though last weekend's game was almost too close to call but for an early and (ahem) very lucky shot. Gigi's team is still a work in progress. Her coach says her shoulders are a little sore from carrying the team, but we're working on it.
The first game was chilly, and it's always 10 degrees colder with a wind 10 mph faster at the soccer fields.
But weather aside, soccer season is fabulous.
It's uplifting.
Every year, I wait for him to take it just a little too seriously and forget the fun.
This isn't that year.
This one, on the other hand, takes it all very seriously.
Fortunately, her coach always knows just what to say.
He's nearly 8. But that's a story for another day.
The story of this day is that at some point, it will become embarrassing for a star player to stop the game for the referee to tie his shoes. But not when he's only nearly 8.
"What have you been up to?"
"Wayell, they's a lot of housework these days; and parking lots don't clean themselves."
We celebrated Easter one more year.
And I realized that pretty soon, they won't be so accommodating of mom's silly requests. So, I'd better take full advantage while I can.
Be-Bop-a-Lula was ready for her sock hop in her toodle skirt.
Red lipstick makes every girl feel ready for the party, even at 6 o'clock on a Friday work-week.
We've struggled with friends this year; it does a mommy's heart good to see these apple cheeks.
"Hey mom, does everybody have boogers?"
"Yes."
"Wayell," she grins and holds up a finger, "I have one in my hand right now!"
My first school dance was held at a teen club in my hometown. I wore my freshman swimming sweatshirt and jeans because I figured it made me look like I belonged somewhere, even if not at the dance. I was a wall flower and didn't fit into much of anything in junior high.
This was the first school dance for all of our little Lutheran school kids. The parents danced alongside the teenagers; and the teenagers saw what real love is by watching the school director and her husband hit the floor hand-in-hand with every slow song. Dads danced with daughters; moms danced with sons; teachers danced with each other; and everyone had a place to fit in.
I wore a pink poodle skirt.
What have we been up to? We're tails over tea kettles in the spring season.
