Morrigan, she who we perpetually worry will meld with her bed as she spends so much time there reading, came home the other day and announced she wanted to try out for soccer.
Naturally, we were pleased. (Laziness runs strong with this one.) Pleased enough, giddy even, to go out and purchase the cleats and shin guards needed for tryouts. Seeing as this may be a bust, I have no idea how many girls try out, we did keep an eye on price. In spite of the fact that they were 15% off, I had to say no to the $200, bright pink cleats.
After throwing money at the issue, I next called my personal soccer authority, Dad.
I told him I had a complete novice and two days before tryouts - on what should we concentrate? The good news was that, in addition to his sage advice, this happens to be one of the very few sports about which I have some practical knowledge. I may never have been any good, but I played for four years as a youth.
After several sessions passing the ball to each other, I can say I really hope the pool of applicants is small. She improved even over the last few days but it still a novice. We'll know more this week!
On unrelated Morrigan news, we opened her up a checking account. She was babysitting enough to have more money lying around than I was comfortable with, so we thought it was time. Admittedly, I am more optimistic about the account than the soccer.