Sharks v. Goldfish

Sitting in an overly sunny grassy field, Daegan curled up in my lap, crumpled into a little ball of boyhood. He points at the other team sitting further down the chalk line, with their preschoolers dressed in black and grey shiny soccer uniforms.

"Mommy, they are the sharks."
"Yes, baby. You get to play the Sharks today. Do you know your team name?"

They had chosen their names last week. It was worth remembering, trying to get three year olds to agree on which team name would be inspired by their bright orange and black uniforms. It was like herding kittens and came down to a majority vote between the "Ponies" and the "Goldfish." I was quite relieved when they chose the Goldfish.

"We are the Goldfish. Mommy, the Sharks are going to eat the Goldfish."

He squinted as he looked up at me.

I scanned the field. They actually looked organized- they even had a goalie! Meanwhile, half our team was picking dandelions or crying on the sidelines.

"Yes, baby. Yes they are. But you will have fun, right?"
"Right, Mommy. I have fun. Now, can we go home?"

(Note: I love this picture below. He is such a diva. No running for him. He would only go out on the field if I let him wear my glasses. Silly kid.)