Forty minutes before Charlie's first soccer practice was to begin the sky filled with dark, foreboding clouds. The first huge drops were starting to fall as I called the Y, dismal radar image up on the screen in front of me, to learn that, no, it wasn't raining at the Y, five miles from my house. We would have practice as scheduled. HURRAY! Because by that point Charlie was standing by the front window, in his cleats, shin guards, and knee socks, singing "Out came the sun and dried up all the rain..." over and over and OVER again. We loaded into the car and backed out of the garage into a torrential rainstorm.
"WOW, kids! Isn't this an ADVENTURE?!" I chirped. No one freak out! It's an ADVENTURE!
Traffic was awful, but by the time we got a few blocks from the field the rain magically slowed to a soft drizzle and then stopped. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. When we got to the field I had to wake Pele up so we could walk to the "orange" field to meet his team.
Which we did right after he paused to tuck his shorts into his socks.
There will be no folding over of socks in this house.
It was total chaos when we arrived, with little families milling around not really knowing what to do or where to go. Finally an official looking man wearing a name tag and a whistle told us they were still deciding what to do about the weather. Big fat raindrops had started to fall again, but it was hardly the tropical storm we had driven through to get there. A "Real Housewives" type in front of me whined "I don't want to stay outside in THIIIIISSSS" and I used every ounce of self control I possess to not roll my eyes. I said to another woman "I'd rather stand outside in this than get back in my car without playing soccer!" She gave me a knowing smile and nodded toward her son, who was Charlie's age.
Ryan arrived, we stood around for a few minutes, they told us our team doesn't have a coach yet and they need a parent to volunteer. I elbowed Ryan in the ribs jokingly. He responded "Yeah!" with a LOT more sincerity than I was expecting. I looked at him like "What? Are you Ned Flanders all of the sudden?" but secretly hoped he was serious. Mostly because I like to bake and I would make a kickass Team Mom. While we talked the kids busied themselves with the soccer goal.
And then the Very Close Lightning and Very Loud Thunder began. If there's one thing small children love, it's Very Loud Thunder. The official looking man blew his whistle and yelled for us all to "CLEAR THE FIELD" in a very official tone of voice and we all obediently returned to our various hatch-backed cars to take our sad little kids to Sonic and Papa John's and Red Box.
Charlie complained in a surprisingly mature way about the thunderstorm and having to leave practice and he and Ryan played in the back yard after it cleared up. Still, we're hoping for sunny skies next week.