Today, much like the parting of the Red Sea, Jimmie Johnson's hair and Al Roker being gainfully employed, a miracle happened.
Trot scored 8 goals in his soccer game. Not one or two by luck or chance but EIGHT goals where he ran hard, dribbled the ball and shot with both feet. After 2 1/2 seasons of doing cart wheels, picking flowers, and happily chatting on the bench instead of focusing on the field he all of a sudden turned into a bald, pint size version of Pele who had this look of pure happiness as he clomped up and down the field.
I'm sure by Saturday that competitive fire that burst out tonight will have abated and he'll be back to asking the kid on the other team if he collects Pokemon cards but for tonight?
You couldn't wipe the grin off my face with an industrial grade sander.
3 comments:
Go, Trot!
It was magical.
Now if could just learn to hold the thin end of the stick and hitv the round thing with the thick end, you'd have an all rounder
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