I don't know how many times when the boys were in my belly, that Josh made the joke while they were kicking, "oh, looks like he's gonna be a soccer player."
They are now. Levi and Enoch are on the same U6 team here in Stirling. I debated putting Enoch in, but he insisted that he wanted to play. I think he hates it. He is definitely the slowest and smallest on the team. He never gets the ball and usually spends most of his time watching from a distance the pack of kids and the ball; he doesn't even try to run after them. And thats if he's standing up. He might just be sitting on the field staring at the grass. That seems to amuse him, too.
Levi on the other hand, being among the oldest on the team, has been doing well. He gets the ball and dribbles it and all that jazz. Unfortunately last night on a break away a good defenseman stopped him in his tracks and they both went down; with Levi landing on his elbow. Now he can be quite dramatic at the best of times so I sort of ignored his crying at first. But when it continued for an hour after we got home, we decided to take him into Raymond to the hospital. A couple x-rays later shows no broken bones but a dislocated elbow that for one reason or another the doctor couldn't put back in place. So Levi gets to wear a half cast for the next few days and then we go in again for more x-rays. I am ashamed to say I had to really hold back the laughter when Levi asked me about the worst day of my life. He was pretty sad. He wanted to know about Daddy's, too. What was sad, though, was when he asked me if he was gonna die. I assured him no such thing was going to happen, it was just a sore arm. He also wanted to know if he was hurt or wounded. What's the difference? I am not sure, but he seems to think there is one. Hopefully next week soccer won't be quite so eventful.