Yesterday, I posted a picture of myself on instagram that probably didn't phase many people at all. For me though, it was very emotionally charged, after finding out about our choices for a three year old soccer program for Isaac.
Here's the picture.
The story behind it really doesn't have much to do with Isaac, at all either, but rather a very competitive soccer player who grew up with a deep love for the colors red, black and white. This love was fierce, even though I went to a private school and a practical gag reflex at jerseys in the color blue.
You can just imagine my disdain yesterday when my futile searches for a 3 year old summer soccer program for Isaac only turned up one option.
It's not even that I want Isaac to play for Coon Rapids, not that at all, my first choices were all in our surrounding cities . . . but to actually choose Blaine? I feel as though I'm knowingly sinning.
How could this girl, driving my Mom's convertible for an evening of chilly car tag |yikes, please don't ever do this boys!| with Kier, Nancy and Erin, choose Blaine?
It seriously makes my head spin! Ultimately, I decided to leave the choice up to Isaac, as there was also a T-Ball Parent/Child program. My thought was that he could do the T-Ball program, skipping the 3 year old soccer program. T-Ball, psh, who cares? It's the idea of my little kiddo in the Blaine soccer t-shirt that breaks my heart.
And so last night at dinner, I asked.
Me: Isaac, do you want to play soccer or [pause for dramatic effect] T-BALL?
Isaac: [without so much as a second delay] SOCCER!
Que, me, crying.
This high school girl would punch me in the face right now.