Herd Ball

I'm not saying that what's going on on the field isn't amusing as hell, but what I find really interesting is what's going on off the field.

I've abandoned the rest of the family (including my shutter bug husband) and their sunny perches in the bleachers in favor of a little spot by myself in the dancing shade of a tree. Although it's September and theoretically the official start of autumn is all of ten days off, someone has failed to inform the Alabama sun. Or maybe they did and the Alabama sun just shrugged and did what it always does- be hot as blazes. At any rate, here I am in the shade, by myself, and I can't help but notice that about three out of every five men that walk by are checking me out- and not in the way I'm used to being checked out. Nope, it's in a eyes-slide-to-the-left-hand sort of check-out. Huh. Odd to be in an environment where a wedding band might actually count for something.

In the meantime the children (none of which are mine- I'm just the cool aunt) are stampeding up and down the blessedly truncated field, amidst parental cries of, "Other way!", "Kick the ball!", and "Other way!" Well, that and, "Quit looking at us and watch the ball!" (I myself used one water break to assure my niece that we are watching her no matter what, so she can focus on the game instead of waving to us...)

But back to my shady spot beneath the tree. I'm being amused at this moment in my life- this ridiculously domestic moment. We got up early and drove an hour and half down here to watch a bunch of little kids fall all over a ball- it's not what one could call a "cool" way to spend a Saturday morning, not by any stretch of the imagination. But I am enjoying it, and I find myself wondering if I'll ever be doing this sort of thing for offspring of my own. The idea of children is so daunting- I look out there at all those little creatures amoeba-ing back and forth around the nucleus of the soccer ball, and I think to myself, "She's only five years old. I feel like she's grown up so fast, but the truth of the matter is that she's still going to be in her parents house for at least another thirteen years," and the thought kind of makes my blood run cold. They're such a long-term investment, children.

I know, I know- by and large they're held to be worth it. But that doesn't make it any less terrifying.

But then I think back on a recent conversation I had with a dear friend of mine, regarding marriage being what you choose to make it: mayhap parenting is, as well.

(Breakaway)