Today brings the closure of T1’s soccer season.
The club hosted a Gala Day to celebrate the end of season. There were food stalls and jumping castles, those roly-poly blow-up balls that you can slide yourself in the centre of (if you’re a kid or super-tiny, that is), trophies, and the best bit: the parents vs kids match.
I wasn’t going to play. I swear! I wasn’t dressed for sport: jeans, jumper, and sneakers. Not runners, not sporty footwear. But T1 pushed me onto the pitch. He did! Really! And so, I put down my handbag and stepped on to have a go.
Not five minutes into the game, the ball got kicked by Coach J, straight into me. It hit my left boob. Hard. Lucky they’re real otherwise I reckon the implant might’ve burst! 🙂
As far as soccer skills go, I’m a good netball player. I swung my foot and missed the ball a lot; I squealed a lot. I also laughed a lot. But I did kick a few, some even with my left foot. Nearly scored a goal, too, but for that goalie! Mostly though, I had loads of fun with T1, his soccer mates and the other parents, while Hubster, Our Girl and T2 cheered from the sideline.
For a while the scoreboard was embarrassing for the parents (particularly as we had Coach J on our side!), but we came back to a fairly judicious outcome: 3-4.
After the match finished, T1 quietly whispered in my ear that I was the best parent on the pitch, but I think he might be slightly biased. Still, I was chuffed he said that. It certainly beats hearing that you’re embarrassing to your child.
And now we’re back home, I think a lie down is in order to ameliorate my aches and pains in my back, feet and hips. It’s going to take me days to recover.