Our last pee wee football game is next week, but as it's a 7:30 game, the light will probably not be good enough for my zoom. So, these are the last pictures of football season.
I was so intent on finding Holt each play through my lens that when I finally put my camera down (because I could not find him), he was two inches from my face. Birch had sent him to me to take him to the bathroom. As we rushed to the bathroom and barely breezed by the soap on the way out, I thought, "Wow! He's finally really getting into this whole sports thing." He was in a major rush to get back on the field. Then I hear, "Hope I'm not too late for half-time drinks." That's my boy.
Here he's getting some instruction with his trademark "Who me?" cheeseball smile that he's perfected. I get this look a lot.
Juliana and I walked the two mile loop after the game, and as we came around the back side of the main field, we saw the 7 and 8 year olds smacking each other around in their pads and helmets.
Please, God, let my son develop an interest in world peace or macrame or bug collecting before this time next year.
No comments:
Post a Comment