Soccer with The Monkey
Little twerp wants to try out for the school team next year, so she’s been asking me to practice with her lately.
As we walked out to the side lawn, I commented on the mosquitoes. She replied, “Oh, there aren’t that many. Don’t get your panties in a knot.”
At one point, she saved one of my shots into the bushes. She slowly crept in to get it, saying, “Araignée! Araignée! Uhm… Peter, how do you say snake in French?”
“Araignée! Araignée! Serpent! Serpent!”
There was a natural obstacle that we were playing around…
Because I was using my left foot, The Monkey decided to use hers too. So, the ball went out of control and, of course, right into the Nipper poop. So I, of course, kicked the ball up high so she’d catch it. Then I yelled “Nipper poop on your hands!” Which eventually led to her trying to wipe the ball on my shirt while she said, “Ewwww. And then if you bite on your shirt, it would be like eating Nipper poop.”
“Why would I bite on my shirt?”
“Oh, everyone does it. It’s the new thing.”
She then said, “I want to show my goalie skillz. [I could tell from her tone that it was spelled with a Z.] But, don’t kick it too far. I want to dive a little. And DON’T kick it too hard and make me run to go get it.”
So, I kicked it off to the side a little and she blocked it. But, she didn’t block it quietly. “Oh yeah!! Look at my goalie skillz. I am da master. [She then started bowing dramatically.] That is what you should be doing. Bow to me.”
We kept playing and I kicked one and she missed the save. I asked, “Where are your goalie skillz now?” She quickly replied, “Oh, they are still here. I just don’t want to make you feel bad when I stop all of your shots.” Then she performed what I can only describe as a “Woot! Woot! Dance.”
She told me that when we were done playing, she was going to meet her friend at the playground down the street. Then she mentioned calling a couple of other friends to meet them there too. However, twenty minutes later, her dad showed up and said, “You realize that you have tap dancing in ten minutes?” She replied, “Yeah, yeah.” I asked, “Uhm, I thought you were going to the playground. Did you know you had to go to dancing?” She looked at me like I was nuts and said, “Sure.” And then waved off the whole topic as if the passage of time only mattered to mere mortals.
And then she proceeded to stay and play soccer for another fifteen minutes.
Before we finished, an old truck drove down a nearby lane. If it had a muffler, it wasn’t muffling all that well. I said, “Buddy, you might wanna get that looked at.”
She said, “What did you say?”
“I said that dude should get his muffler checked.”
She watched it drive down the road and then stop for a minute and sound like it was going to blow up. She looked at me and said, “Muffler? He should get his head checked. Driving that…”