Today turned into an unofficial sports day at our house. Basketball, soccer and track were our featured events. And I whooped up in all arenas, except for those two times.
First up basketball in the driveway. Showdown at mid morning. Me versus various farm animals. First, I won at PIG. I should've gone out on top though because Eva quickly beat us with SHEEP (why not a sheep?). Then, the history of driveway basketball shootouts was marred by a dark cloud. An anomaly of epic proportions. A never-before-seen feat that will be carved in the lore of our family annals. Sofia beat us at HORSE. Sofia. Refuses to go outside without a book Sofia. Gets a cramp walking up the stairs Sofia. Turning a page is the most physical activity she will ever voluntarily do Sofia. Now, in our very strong defense, she did it by making five of the same shots. Nevertheless, she beat Eva and I fair and remarkably square. Then she did a robust victory dance. And got a cramp. Thus ending her illustrious basketball career.
Next up was soccer, I shot. I scored. I blocked. I awed and amazed. I went in to make lunch.
Finally, while Maya was at soccer practice, I got the bright idea to race Eva down the length of her own soccer field. I whole heartedly expected her to finally prove to be too much for me. She's really fast. All power and no brakes fast. I was confident this would be the first time she would beat me. I almost looked forward to it. As we lined up on the base line, I prepared my pass the baton speech in my head. As she counted down, I readied myself for her gloating (she is my daughter, after all). A funny thing happened at the opposite baseline, though. I crossed it first. Not by much, but I beat her. Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! The crowd went wild - in my head. Want to race back? Oh yes, she did (she is no quitter!). Again, I was sure she would do it this time. She was so close in the first round. Annnnddd we were off again.... Annnnnddddd, I whooped her. Again. Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! The glory was mine. Ever gracious in victory, I only reminded her about twelve times in the walk back to Maya's field that I beat her TWO TIMES.
And, what do ya know? Sofia decided she wanted to race me. Her logic? I was probably too tired from the first two rounds, so she had a chance.
Nope.
Smoked her. She ate my dust. She "broke her leg" on the second round after getting her infamous cramp just walking over to the field. She, as I say, went down. Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!
Unofficial "Mama still has it in Sports" Day is complete. No trophies are necessary. No ribbons or medals. Just the infinite gloating and rubbing in faces shall suffice.
And, I won't be defending my title again for a minute.
On a completely unrelated note, what's the official retirement age for injured race horses? Anyone got a gun, I think I smell glue?
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