Today we traveled to the exciting county of Claiborne to play some thug soccer. I know it takes all kinds to make the world go round, but honestly. S's team got up there to end up playing on a field too small for their abilities. When our coaches told the people, they called our head coach a name that my children really should not have heard. But then, the girls we played have had a tendency to use colorful language that makes me do a double take. They scream at people and have been known to punch other girls from other teams in the stomach. Their team parents have picked fights in the parking lot. So anything less than that is really kind of a pleasant surprise. The girls won the game which wasn't surprising to us, but the opposing team was so taken aback and shocked that they lost, their coaches wouldn't even shake our coaches' hands. The hub shook it off, considering the source, and began readying himself for the next game to play. G huddled under a blanket since the temperature was a good 15 degrees cooler there and blustery. The boy sat in the mud and sculpted things out of mud. Riveting stuff.
After a day of activity, the hub's back could take no more excitement, so any plans were kind of on hold. He and the boy stayed home and I tok the girls to church to hear a visiting youth bell choir from Michigan. So very polished and professional. We were impressed.
Currently, I have my feet up while the hub is watching the basketball game. My eyes are growing heavy and my face is burning from the sun and windburn during thug soccer. I'm glad no one was severely injured and you always hate to see someone so overcome in defeat. But I was not sorry to win. Those girls earned it...and managed to not dip their toes into thug soccer. Proud of them.
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