The fantastic soccer mania.
Our Saturday morning started off in a fantastic way. (Read more of the fantastic-ness here.) It got even better at 10:15 a.m. when I opened the door to my next-door neighbor, Drew, who was holding TWO DOZEN KRISPY KREME DONUTS. Well crapsickles. Not for me. There was a neighborhood board meeting starting around our dining room table about then. And I was not invited.
Instead, Holden had a soccer game. And after frantically shoving shin guards over sweaty feet, then the world’s longest socks over the sweaty feet and slick shin guards, and finally soccer cleats that were a little caked with dirt from the backyard, it was perfect. He was perfect.
The 30-minute game started about 15 minutes late, which was, again, fantastic, since it made it possible for Hank to quickly wrap up that meeting and make it to see Holden be a maniac on the field with his friend Sam. I swear, every picture that I took of Holden, Sam was right there. And every picture that I took of Sam, Holden was right there.
Except for these rare shots of Holden being excited.
Ewan, then, had the opportunity to sport his nice, new forehead bump from a tumble down a couple of stairs and landing on the hardwood floor.
By the way, after we all had only ONE Krispy Kreme donut per person, Hank threw the rest away. I have never wanted to dumpster dive so badly in all of my life.
I resisted.