Livi had a soccer game last night. (Ava played Monday night–don’t think I mentioned that.) Neither of the girls has won a game yet, but they’re fun to watch, and they’re both playing really well.
So, we’re sitting there watching Livi’s team, and one of the dads (very rich, successful, important-looking man) is standing about 15 feet from us. He’s quite vocal. Not in a bad way really. Just lots of yelling/cheering. In the first quarter, there are 2 girls (Livi was one of them) playing defense, and the boys are on offense. The guy is dad to one of the boys. The other girl kicks the ball away from the goal, and the wife asks the guy, “What’s that girl’s name?”
“Oh, I don’t know the girls,” he says, with a disdainful wave of his hand toward the two of them. I can’t convey his tone in writing, but I am 100% convinced he was suggesting that the girls on the team were of so little consequence he couldn’t trouble himself to actually remember their names. This team is the same team they had in the fall (with a few minor changes). Their names are on their jerseys. This is their 15th game together.
Second quarter. Score tied at zero. Livi’s on offense. The dad is yelling. Three kids in the goalie box. (one of them mine, one of them his) Someone scores. Who was it? (in a moment, I will tell you)
He turns to his wife, “Who scored?”
“Shhhhh…,” she says. “It doesn’t matter who scored.”
“No, really, who scored?”
“Shhhh…it doesn’t matter.”
“No, I just want to know, so I can congratulate someone.”
“I just want to know who to congratulate.”
They kept going back and forth, back and forth. It was weird. And I couldn’t stop grinning. And yelling, “Way to score, Livi!” Their team has played 2 games all year. They have one goal. Scored by a…girl.
In the fall, she’ll be on an all-girls team. That will be good. (Reminder to self: buy Livi some longer soccer shorts. Oh, you should see the poor thing in her long legs and short shorts! She’s got 10 inches of leg showing, and everyone else has less than 2.)
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I got up and ran again this morning, despite being super sore. Hold me accountable if you would. That’d be cool.
Have a great day!