Last week I was overwhelmed taking care of the junk that had piled up during my four-day excursion West, and then with a couple days of labor.
(To be clear, mommybloggers, I don't mean the "squeezing a bowling ball out from between my legs" kind of labor. I know, I know. It was a beautiful yet painful and horrible experience for you that I -- a "man" -- can never truly comprehend. You're all awesome. Down there. And stuff. You humble me. I was only referring to the mentally draining kind of labor that comes with a pittance of a paycheck in the mail six weeks later. Sometimes it makes me wish I could opt for the bowing ball.)
This weekend, I was hard at work fulfilling contractual obligations -- as a blogger and as a youth soccer coach.
On the blogging front, you can read about the utter disappointment suffered by me and Thing 1 upon watching the 2009 version of The Electric Company over on DadCentric.com. Click the links in it. Lots and lots of great clips from the original show and, thankfully, none from the new one. Bleech!
Next, I contributed a little something about sex to a brand new spanking blog called "Hot Dads." (Hmm, there should have been hyphens in there somewhere. It is NOT a blog about spanking. Or Spanx. Do they make Manx? Maybe Reverse Manx for, um, date-night enhancement.)
In the soccer arena (really middle-school gymnasiums -- got that hyphen right), the Things' teams went 1 and 1. A little hollow because the one victory was notched when the other team didn't have enough players show up. So that day, we ended playing a practice game once I sent three of my players (including Thing 1) over to the other team for the afternoon.
Now, I said "practice game" because I was confident these 8- and 9-year-olds -- some of whom I have previously coached -- wouldn't understand the word "scrimmage." I learned they also didn't know the term "practice game."
"Technically, we won the league game because the other team didn't have enough players. So, we played a practice game. That ended in a 1-1 tie."
"So did we win?"
On the ride home, I told Thing 1 that she played OK but it didn't look like she was giving as much effort as she could.
"I didn't want to kick the ball too hard," she said, "because I didn't want the other team to beat you."
Oh, my precious Pumpkinhead (because that's what I called her as a baby), you're a keeper.
Just not a goalkeeper.
My Uncool Past
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- Scenes from a Generally Good Day
- Meet the New Uncool; Same as the Old Uncool
- Last Stop
- Is This Post Shaking or Is It Just Me?
- Symphony for Thing 1
- Death of a Web Site; Birth of a Thing
- 25 Random Things -- Uncool Family Edition
- My Little Chickadee
- Valentine's Day is for Pansies ... and Other Free ...
- I'm Cheating on You
- ▼ February (10)