So yesterday was a soccer day– and it was MISERABLE. Temperature in the 100’ds, humid, air quality for shit–just gross. So when I got back from taking Chicken to her two ref jobs, I was not surprised to see everybody in shorts going to Zoomboy’s game. (Chicken had a game in an hour too–we had to split up, which we don’t usually do, because their games overlapped.) I was sort of surprised to see this outfit on Squish.
“Hey,” I said, “didn’t that used to be a dress?”
“Yeah,” said Mate, looking at her grimly.
“That’s okay,” said Chicken, with the same expression on her face, “I’m pretty sure those used to be shorts, too!”
Well, it made her happy, but it reminded ME that I need to clean out her clothes hamper more often, because that outfit is a lot of things, but FITTING HER BODY is not one of them. So the day was hard–for the soccer players more than the soccer mom, who sat at the sidelines and sucked down water and thought longingly of actually WRITING since, yanno, that is sort of her profession. Actually, though, at Chicken’s game, I DID start getting unaccountably bitter. Bitchy. Moody. I mean, more than usual. You know, it’s AMAZING what skipping lunch can do for a person? Seriously–if it wasn’t for a granola bar in the bottom of my purse, I might have killed someone.
And, of course, my knitting…
This T-shirt (modeled over Chicken’s head, actually) a gift from my friend Elizabeth, was waiting for me when we got home at five o’clock. (For those keeping track, that was soccer from 9-5, oh yes it was. Mate guided Zoomboy’s team to an enthusiastic loss at 5-2– seriously. He was expecting to get creamed, and that’s not what happened. Zoomboy even kicked the ball once. On purpose. It was in the WRONG DIRECTION, but his intent to help canNOT be doubted.)
But the T-shirt pretty much insured that nobody would die yesterday–I was too busy laughing, and working on my socks for the Super Sock Man story. All good!