Before heading out to Wilmington for the UNCW "Commotion at the Ocean" annual swim meet, we decided to watch Pey's soccer game. Instead of cold and rainy this time, we were treated to cold and windy. I was miserable and ready to head for the car five minutes into the first quarter. Pey entertained herself on the sideline by hanging upside down from the bench. Silly, yes, but far more entertaining that the action on the field.
|Really. I don't make this stuff up.|
After a mere 3 hours (or thereabouts-- I may have taken some artistic license here), the last quarter came and I started planning on where we could grab dinner on the road. But wait--what's going on? The coach has Pey in the goalie penny? Huh? My kid, playing goalie? The same girl who chases grasshoppers and does pirouettes on the field was going to be in goal? She is my child--NO attention span whatsoever. How was she going to pay attention 10 whole minutes and keep the balls out of the goal? I was planning on how to slink off that field to avoid the boos and water bottles thrown at us, for bringing such a space cadet into the world. Surely she'd wander off and leave the goal wide open. Hockey with the goalie pulled, wide open.
It was the longest 10 minutes of my life. Every time the ball came to our end of the field, I crossed my fingers. I would have closed my eyes, but I had to take pictures (although some of my frames looked like they'd been snapped blind). Must have worked--she shut them out! Nobody scored on her! I couldn't believe it. Butter my biscuit and call me Francis--the kid was good! She stayed on with my inlaws & played again Saturday. Same thing--no goals allowed. Even the opposing team's coach came to hug her after the game. Whoda thunk it?
The rest of us non soccer players ventured on to Wilmington. For some reason, the UNCW meet always gets romanticized and glossy when looking back upon it. Perhaps it is the fact that we are close to the beach and get to eat in cool restaurants we don't have here that makes the meet look so warm and cuddly. In reality, it is the worst swim meet for parents to attend. You have to walk up two flights of steps, to be crammed in, sardine style--provided the sardines in the can were slowly roasted in a 90 degree can--in the darkest corner of the Trask Center. It is reminiscent of dungeons--dank, hot, smelly, loud--only you didn't have to climb two stories to a dungeon. Plus, the acoustics are horrible. Every whistle, shout, buzzer gets magnified to ear splitting levels. In the past, I have had the excuse of Pey getting restless so I've been able to walk around the campus with her. Didn't have that luxury this time--she was too busy playing soccer star.
|Like sardines, I tell you!|
|Thrilled, I say!|
|Even the kids are packed sardine style. I highlighted "Waldo" for you.|
|If only I could put a red homing beacon on her cap in real life. They all look alike in the water.|
Lulu swam well and ribboned in the 100 breast. And I finished 3 books on the Kindle And we got to eat at Fat Tony's downtown. And we had both ice cream and yogurt in the span of two days. See--there were some bright points!
Another bright point from this morning--our new dental insurance has me listed as J's daughter. I told you I was much younger than he is :)