Sometimes, you end up with six little kids in a tangled circle, all of them kicking the ball at the same time, their little faces scrunched up with determination, and someone, usually the coaches, has to go in and rescue the ball by separating the players. Oh, that's right, the coaches are on the field, helping to direct the game. They can't kick the ball or touch it, they can only direct their players ("Keep kicking the ball! Keep kicking the ball! No, don't stop running, no, run and kick the ball, YES! There you go!!). It can be convulsively funny, and I can't tell you how many times I have had to hide my face in a jacket or a shirt to hide the fact that I was laughing myself silly!
I'm looking forward to watching Miss Priss trying to sort all this out. It should be interesting!
In the meantime, while they are off gallivanting through the FIFA rulebook, the Impossible Son and I will be having a special day all to ourselves. A "Mama and Impossible Son" day, if you will. He wants to go to China Palace for lunch, and then we will go see "Bolt," since he has been wanting to see that for some time now. The last time we had a day to ourselves like this, we went to see "Ratatouille" which was surprisingly good (I actually hadn't expected much from it). I am hoping "Bolt" will also surprise me in a good way. It's funny how something I'll anticipate as being good will suck, and something I'll wince at seeing, and have to be dragged to will actually turn out well.
After that, I guess we'll either go window shopping, or hit one of the parks, or some such. Hmmmm... a trip to the local state park (since we have free passes) for a bit of kid-sized hiking would probably not be a bad idea. Or maybe we'll get some ice cream. We both love ice cream.
This, of course, is if I don't poop out on him (which is entirely possible). Guess I'll be ingesting mass quantities of caffeine so I can keep up with him!
Oh, and before I forget, happy birthday to