The wife brought home those delectable chocolate peanut butter cups from Trader Joe's. You know the ones I'm talking about. So much better than Reece's--they just melt in your mouth! But a serving size is only 3 tiny cups and that will cost you 180 calories. Ha! If I can't have them right now then you have to feel guilty about polishing off 9 or 10.
So I saw those and really, really wanted something sweet. I have no good options for that. I can and have put brown sugar (cane sugar, not refined, legal for me) in my oatmeal. Other than that I'm relegated to dried fruit. Yes, dried fruit. Who, when they want something sweet, eats dried fruit?
I do. 8 dried apricots. Really hit the spot. Grrrrrrr...
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Today was Saturday which meant soccer for the kids. Jen and I are pretty ambivalent on the whole youth soccer thing. Neither one of our kids (older kids, we're holding out hope for Wes) are at all athletic to this point, and neither one of them seem to be that into sports. We're pretty confident (and hopeful!) that they won't be interested in signing up again next year and we can have nice, lazy Saturdays again.
But for now, we go. The wife was out of town with little Wes so Daddy was in charge of soccer day. Miah had the first game at 9:00 am and his team actually won a game! First one of the season, 5-0. The other team seemed to have no concept of the offside rule which helped tremendously.
Riley's game was at 11:45am and for the first time in her soccer career (2 years) her team didn't win. She has been on stacked teams in which she is a role player, supporting the go-getters. The game ended in a 3-3 tie, no sudden death or shoot-out in AYSO U-8.
I was helping to ref Riley's game. The wife--despite my objections--has gotten it in her mind that I enjoy refereeing and therefore volunteers me at the beginning of each year. The first time I sat through a day-long "ref school" to find out how to check 6 year-olds for illegal cleats and the proper way to signal a goal kick. This year I refused to go and so I'm relegated to being a "line referee" rather than a "center referee."
Center refs have all the glory. They get a whistle. They also have all the pressure. They get yelled at by parents. Seriously. Because our kids haven't really gotten that into competitive sports I thought the whole angry, out-of-control sports parent thing was a bit of a myth. Not so.
Today Riley's team (The Sunshine Girls. I've tried to tell Riley this means she has to always be pleasant and agreeable, but she isn't buying it.) was the home team which means we supply the center ref and one line ref. The away team (Blue and Black Attack--now that's a decent name!) provides the other line ref.
The poor Sunshine girls, who had never tasted defeat and, I believe, had never trailed in a game, found themselves down at the half 3-1. Tensions were high as the half-time orange slices were consumed and normally calm parents were sniffing for blood.
Referee blood.
Throughout the second half the center ref--who is a parent of one of the girls on our team, mind you--received a fair amount of disgruntled commentary from the parents on our own team! It was comical. And sad.
Do 6 and 7 year-olds really need this kind of pressure? Does a volunteer ref with minimal training who is simply helping out from the goodness of his heart need this kind of grief?
It make me wonder about some of these parents who prowl the sidelines with the intensity of a lion waiting for fresh prey. Do they really have nothing else in life other than this game played by their kid? If this is how things are in the under 8 league, how is it by the time you get to age 12?
No thanks.
By the way, my role-player daughter got hold of one just right and booted a ball from about midfield that somehow avoided all other players and rolled into the goal. First one of the season! I was very happy for her.
Of course if it had missed, I'm sure I could have blamed it on the ref.
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