As heard by my mother who happened to sit in the opposing team’s bleachers this afternoon at Cassidy’s soccer game:
Soccer mom A: “Hmmm. That little red head is pretty good.”
Soccer mom B: “Yep. Watch out for the red head, number 2. She’s fast.”
Soccer dad A: “Sure thing, number two is tricky.”
Soccer mom A: “Hey! The red head is pushing again! She’s not supposed to do that.”
Soccer dad B: “She’s just plain bad and dirty.” Said with a hint of awe.
Our team won. Cass came home bruised and covered in dirt. She was utterly content with her beastly win, very proud of her dirty fighting ways.
I sure do love it when her inner predator gets played out on the field and is too tired to chew on me.
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