(This is just a quickie so that I can go back to this new thing I’m trying of pretending that I don’t work on the weekends. Woo! Am not checking email! Am just, um, petting my MacBook for a minute!)
My family is nothing if not triumphant. I mean, don’t be jealous or anything, but we pretty much rock.
First of all, Monkey had his first soccer game, and they pounded the other team. Just decimated them. This league doesn’t keep score, but I’m pretty sure the final tally was somewhere around 25 to 2. And Monkey—you know I love that kid more than life, and I say this with compassion in my heart—is not actually very good at soccer. (He is, however, EXCELLENT at dancing around on the field and shaking his booty. So there’s that.) I’m sure that the fact that Monkey’s team is composed almost entirely of nearly-eight-year-old boys and the opposing team appeared to be all six-year-old girls had nothing to do with the win. (P.S. To the league: Might wanna mix up the team assignments a little next time. I’m just sayin’.)
Second, I went and sang with the choir at church today, and at this church our robes have assigned numbers. I’ve been given robe number 1, and no matter how many times I throw my arms in the air and declare “I’M NUMBER ONE!” the people in the choir are STILL TALKING TO ME. In fact, today someone tried to recruit me for handbells, too. Because I am just that cool.