Quinn started soccer today. I about died of cuteness overload watching his first practice. It started with him shyly gazing up at his coach with an eagerness to learn and please, and it quickly evolved into him being one of two boys who decided it's more fun to just run around kicking the ball, forgoing the rules and drills. No hands? Yah right. Small kicks? The bigger the better, in Quinn's eyes. I look forward to the next six weeks and seeing if he regains an interest in following the directions or if he'll be the wild child who has his own agenda. I'd put my money on the latter, but only time will tell.
Before I took him to practice we had to pick up some soccer (tennis) shoes and shin guards. Quinn thought it was necessary that he have a soccer shirt as well, and confident that there wouldn't be a shirt with a soccer ball I humored him and took him to the clothing aisle. Silly me. Of course there was a soccer shirt, with matching lime green shorts. I tried to encourage him to go with the gray or black shorts, but he insisted. Lime green shorts it was.
As soon as we left the store he thought we were going straight to practice, so when I took him home the tears started flowing. He regained his composure quickly and decided that the next best thing would be to immediately put on his new soccer "costume". Everything's a costume with this kid. We took a quick trip down to the neighborhood park so he could practice kicking his little (foam) soccer ball around. He couldn't contain his excitement.
*There was a lot of fiddling with those silly shin guards.
While Quinn played with his soccer ball, Kira practiced her balance beam walking. She's got gymnastics class tomorrow, afterall.
*Don't mind the dress shoes and saggy diaper.
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