So we had soccer practice last night. It was the first time in several weeks that most of the kids had gotten near a soccer ball and its as if they completely forgot what the thing was for or how to behave at soccer practice. They treated the coach like a substitute teacher.

Fortunately, it was a short practice because there are all kinds of makeup games scheduled due to the recent foul weather. Afterwards I took Chloe to a local restaurant where she had lost a hat last week. They still had it and said I could come get it. The bad news is that Rt.1 was completely backed up because a truck had plowed in to a telephone pole and they had to close down 1.5 lanes of traffic during rush hour. So we had lots of time.

Chloe thought I should tell her stories of my youth during that time. Initially she wanted to hear the story of how uncle charlie, as a five year old went to the Liquor looking for the liccorice that he assumed they sold. I told her about when we moved from Arizona and my grandparents were babysitting us, we got covered head to toe in mud just before the airplane flight to Tennessee. That was always one of my grandmother’s favorite stories. She wanted to know about Tennessee so I told her about the fireflies and the cicadas stuck to the trees. I told her a little bit about my best friend, Brian and cub scouts.

She soaked up the whole thing. Like a sponge. And I’m certain it will come back to haunt me one day. The girl has a memory like a steel trap. She takes after her mother that way.

What should have been a ten minute jaunt turned in to a 90 minute odyssey of brake lights and exhaust.

There’s lots to do today, so I had better get back to it.

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