I know I've talked about sports a lot lately, but I promise not to mention Zinedine Zidane, if that makes you feel any better. No, today it's about football (the American kind) played the way I like it best: by 8-year-old girls. My parents have been in Vegas the past few days, so Cory and I have been the substitute care-givers. Like any good adult, when one of my sisters asks when I'm going to make dinner, I respond with, "Why don't you go outside and play?"
We played a few different games throughout the week with Cory as the all-time quarterback. Having a different sister on my team completely changed the strategy each time. Bailey gets right down to business. She wants to "go far" on each play. After she explains the plan to us, Cory recaps by saying, "Ok, so Bailey's going deep and Jess is going for a short pass. Ready?" She looks at him with a blank, don't-talk-fancy-football-terms-with-me stare and replies, "So I'm going far?" Far. Right. When Cory's pass get's hung up in the tree at about mid-field, she screams at our quarterback, "What kind of a pass was that?!" This girl means business.
With Andrea on my team, it's a completely different game. Although she is just as concerned about scoring, she makes every play as fancy as she can. If the ball hasn't changed hands at least 4 times, we're not trying hard enough. I fought to keep a straight face when she was explaining the play to me: "Ok, I'm gonna spike it to you and you're going to throw it to me. Then you run back up and I'll hand it to you. If we still have time, I'll run back and forth in front and block the other team while you score a TOUCHDOWN!" As she says this, she holds it out until she runs out of breath and bobs her head menacingly at the other team.
After two touchdowns each for both the Ball Babies and the Hot McChicks, Bailey and Lacey are starting to get rough. They've talked too much smack ("We're going to change our names to the Hotter Mc Chicks because we're way better than you!" "Oh yeah, well, we don't have to change our names to be cool!") and now they're both mad. When the shouting match turns to shoving, I have to step in as the responsible mediator. "If y'all are going to start fighting, then we're not going to play anymore."
Lacey storms into the house, but the twins appeal to my competitive side, "We can't quit now. The game's tied! Someone has to win!"
I look at Cory, a little bewildered, thinking, "They're right! Of course someone has to win." I start to give in but magically the resonable side overcomes the competitive side, and I stick to my guns. "Nope, sorry....Last one in the house has a stinky face!"