My son had a soccer game on Saturday. It was beautiful weather for a game... on Friday. Saturday was a little cold, and I was a little cranky because: 1. This was my husband's "thing" to do with our son as I have no real desire to be a juicebox toting, back window stickering soccer mom (some will want to yell at me here...I am truly sorry) 2. I don't feel good. Seriously, I don't. There's nothing like sitting in a brisk wind with a runny nose and 3.my house is a mess, laundry needs to be done, I haven't typed that report...you get the idea.

Well, there we were anyway. I must admit, my son looks adorable in a soccer uniform:

This is from a year ago...but he really hasn't change...except for attitude and vocabulary.

Soccer games are very long, at least by my standards. One would think they could come to a final score in a half hour and cut out the halftime break, water breaks etc... What? I already explained I'm not one for this type of thing. Soccer/hockey mothering? Meh.

Anyway, we're...they're..the team's losing by one and there's about 20 seconds left, when my son is tripped and gets a penalty shot. Everyone lines up. Here's where I have to brag that he's got quite a leg on him and is really good at kicking the ball, and then ambling around the field like a newborn mouse. He lines it up and kicks it...slow motion mind camera kicks in while we watch the ball soar over the defending (and offending...or is it teammates') players, hits the goalie smack on the head (which later induced hysterical, Joan Crawford worthy screams of pain) and lands in the goal. Game tied. Whistle blown. Yay. But that's not the worst part. Non competitive me...the one who's not really into it...had jumped up from her camp chair with a loud,"WAY TO GO BUBBY!!!!" Silence. And not the golden kind. My son turned...and looked at me. It was the kind of look that I will always remember. Especially as I sit alone, in my little corner of the nursing home. Not even needing to ask why in the hell he put me there. You see, I made a pact with him a year ago not to embarass him with baby names in public. And then I did. Oops.

Happy Mother's Day all you beautiful Mommys out there...from me, the one who still hasn't gotten it right.