A SOCCER MOM

After looking at the family calendar for the week and seeing that there is "soccer" written on every day except Sunday, I thought, "I am a soccer mom."

But I'm glad. I love watching my kids do great things, and watching them work hard to do their best is a great thing.

I also generally enjoy overhearing comments about my kids, which I often hear at soccer games. I learn a lot.

I learned that Lane is hot (as though I didn't already know this).
I learned that Joshua is helpful (again, as though I didn't already know this).
I learned that Lane made someone's daughter feel bad (yet another thing I already knew, but it was still sad to hear it and have it made a reality).
I learned that Lane is a ninja.

Joshua and I went to watch one of Lane's soccer games this past week. We parked on one side of the park, not knowing that we were in "enemy territory," and sat amongst the opposing team's fans. We had great seats, though, and were close to the car (which was good, since it was freezing, and we had to go back twice for more blankets!), so we stayed. And it's a good thing we did, at least for entertainment value. There was a group of about 5 or 6 high school girls sitting just in front of us, commenting up a storm about the Cottonwood Colt players, Lane being one of them. Lane was doing such a great job that the girls started calling him a ninja. It was all we could do not to laugh as we heard comments such as these:

"Is he Asian? I don't think he looks very Asian, but he must be, because he is a total ninja with that soccer ball..."
"Yeah. And he's super skinny, too. Asians are skinny like that. He is practically a twig! Look how skinny and small he is compared to our goalie. He's totally a ninja. A stick ninja."
"An Asian stick ninja."

We also learned that a particularly good looking player on Lane's team is particularly good looking no matter how far up on the hill you are sitting.

"Look at number 45. He is so beautiful (he is). Even his hair is beautiful. It totally shimmers in the sun (it does)."
"Yeah. Let's call him 'Mr. Model.' No, let's call him 'Ken.'"
"Hey, Ken! You're beautiful."

Then Ken scored.

"We hate you Ken! You're too pretty to play soccer!"

Oh, how we humans love to hate the pretty ones!

I also learned that I am past the point of old. And it wasn't just my back from sitting on the ground for so long, or my knees that cracked when I got back up. Again, it was the girls who helped inform me:

"Just look at that guy down there. His hair is so white, he must be old!"
"Yeah. He looks so old. He's got to be at least...I don't know...38 or something."

Yep, I'm learning a lot as a soccer mom. Like that I'd better start investing in some Icy Hot, and that I've got a skinny Asian for a son. And that next time I should park on the other side of the field!