Yesterday, Caleb wanted to play some soccer in the back yard. Of course, he has his own set of rules, which seem to change each time we play. The first 5 minutes of the game consist of me just standing there listening to all the rules that I will need to respect. These rules do not necessarily apply to him though and these rules can change at any point while we are playing to be more advantageous to Caleb scoring.
Caleb: "Dad, my goal is the fence." (What he means by the fence is the entire back yard fence. Should be easy enough for me to defend, right?)
Me: "So, where is my goal?" (Caleb proceeds to show me a section of the fence no wider than his body that would take pinpoint accuracy to get by him and score).
Caleb starts the game. I make my move towards the ball. Caleb calls a timeout.
Caleb: "No, no, no, no, dad. You don't move yet."
He then calls time in, gets to within a foot of the fence, announces that I can now move and then scores. Caleb 1, Dad 0.
Me: "Nice goal, Caleb. So my turn."
Caleb: "Not yet, dad. I get to go again."
Why do I feel like he is in for a rude awakening when he actually trys "organized" soccer.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment