Notes from the Weekend

Yesterday, Saturday morning, 8:30. An early soccer practice for our 10-year-old. I didn't mind taking him to practice. It was a beautiful morning, 70 degrees. I had a chair in my trunk and brought a book in case I might do some reading. I also had in mind that my favorite donut place was about 100 steps away. Coffee in a Styrofoam cup kind of place. 

I was the second parent to arrive. The first parent was helping to warm up his son, and then my son. I chatted with him from a short distance while setting up shop at a picnic table. The rest of the team all showed up suddenly, most parents dropping off their kids, taking the opportunity to do errands or whatever for an hour plus. One parent stuck around, and she walked over to the picnic table, and we started chatting. Then one more parent showed up and stayed around, and he joined us, and eventually we were all seated on one side of the table. There are times I like socializing with people and there are times I prefer to shy away and do anything other than talk to humans. I was glad I was feeling social. There was something about this conversation on a peaceful Saturday morning that hit the spot. It was all pleasant, all positive, just a good chit-chat with parents mostly about parent stuff. I've been a baseball and soccer parent for a bunch of years now, and it might have been the most enjoyable small talk I've ever had with my youth sport parent peers. If not the most enjoyable then surely in the top 5. 

Today, Sunday morning, I was at the grocery story in the 7:00 hour, and on the way home my window was down and I turned up the volume very high when the Alvvays song "In Undertow" came on the radio. Sitting at a red light I recalled being 21 and dancing at my favorite college bar to Lenny Kravitz's "Are You Gonna Go My Way". More than 20 years later letting loose is having the window down enjoying indie rock while driving through town. 

One hour ago I took my 7-year-old for ice cream. I wanted him to have something fun to do while my wife is with our 10-year-old at a birthday party. I instructed him to hold his cone up straight, warned him to hold it with two hands. Three licks in, the one scoop of ice cream fell to the ground. He started crying, cone still in hand. A nearby teen witnessed the incident and suggested the five second rule was in effect. It was a funny remark and I said "I hope so". I left it to my son to decide after I picked up the ice cream with a napkin and placed it back on top of the cone, as if it never fell in the first place. "You want this one or a new one?" As I surveyed the ground, noticing a decent amount of bird shit, I have to say he made the right choice in asking for a new cone. I asked for a dish this time, and paid up. He made it through the ice cream this time without a hitch. 

Much more happened during the weekend, but I've already used up 18 of the 30 minutes I allotted myself to compose this weekend wrap. Going to give this a quick proofread and make sure 7-year-old is in pajamas, as bedtime is fast approaching. 

The end.