My kid, the Boy, is a jock. He may be a nerdy, mathlete jock with an affinity for yo-yos, rubik’s cubes, MasterChef and Project Runway, but he’s every bit an athlete. You can smell it on him. These days, about to go to high school, you can LITERALLY smell it on him. When people ask what’s his favorite sport, we tell them he’s a dog. Just throw him a ball,
Soccer Smackdown: parents brawl at youth game
I missed the whole thing. I stayed home to make sure teenagers didn’t have sex on my couch, while rather attractive husband took Boy to the soccer tournament 4 hours away where these extraordinary, highly-scouted 12 year old phenoms need to travel to find any competition worth playing. (That’s the official statement. My version is we get our ass kicked by the locals, so must drive far to end the
How to Choose the Right Team for Your Kid
Spring has sprung, and the U13 boys lacrosse teams have been chosen for the highly competitive youth lax season in my little town, where everybody is going to play on a full athletic Division 1 scholarship in just 6 or 7 short years. Word. This vast pool of extreme athletic talent consists of primarily 6th and 7th grade boys, very few with armpit hair, with the occasional 5th grader thrown
Lucky Charms, Slushies & Soccer
Slushies for all, sometimes, not all the time. My kid loves Lucky Charms. And Slushies. And so does his friend, who somehow made it to the ripe 6th grade age of 12 without every having been into a 7-11, and in one afternoon, I’m sure we rewired his neurons by introducing him to Slushies and the Beastie Boys all in one “play date.” Gag. My kid loves soccer. He plays