Today we have a soccer tournament in Cincinnati which is 2 hours away and P, my oldest needed to be there at 11:35.
I demanded Starbucks as it is Mother’s Day weekend and can make these demands for 48 hours. My husband chose the following as his breakfast du choix:
We arrived at the soccer field at 10:30. We are on field 3, and as you may have guessed, the field labeling started at 24. No scratch that, the fields were lettered first, then they began the numbers. Like airport gates, my gate is usually gate 80.
My first enjoyment today was an ass hole holding up the long stretch of cars behind him because he felt entitled to back his Mercedes into the parking space.
“I would kill for him to hit one of those cars,” I failed to keep to myself.
Yep, he hit one of the cars. Obviously someone is listening to me.
The next little bright spot is knowing I would have a solid hour to blog or read since the boys wanted to watch another game before P’s.
“I want to stay in here with you mommy!” C declared.
“Oh do you now?” I said, completely deflated, knowing what would be next.
He made a bee line to the front seat and for the next 20 minutes simultaneously fidgeted while turning all dials and pressing buttons just because he could. I was about to loose my shit.
Well that is all now. Gotta get my seat so I can turn into psycho mom and scream at the players.
Is that…is that a sausage link in a hotdog bun? Haha what a gourmet breakfast!
Yes…yes it is…sigh…