Such a puppy!
Today we went to a birthday party where they had hired a soccer coach, Coach Paul. He had all the kids playing soccer. You also started to play but you are not even 3 years old! I held your hand and we both did one exercise together. You then kicked the ball around a bit in your own cute little way. You so much want to play with the big children, and you put so much effort into it. But you get tired. At one time you just sat down on the soccer ball-and you are so small that it was a comfortable seat for you.
Another time, the group was paired into two teams. The coach handed out plastic mesh coverings to separate the two teams. It was so big on you that it came down to your knees. And another time, I was looking for you, and you were hidden among all the other kids.
We have been playing soccer a lot, you and I. I harbor fantasies of making you into a soccer player. Basketball is out because you will never be that tall. Football is out because I don't want you to turn into a vegatable. Baseball maybe-but I don't find that sport interesting. Soccer is a global sport. But of course that means global competition. Maybe just enough for you to get a college scholarship. Ah, the fantasies of a middle-aged father.
So I take you downstairs to the garage, and get you to start kicking the soccer ball. Only, your sister likes to kick it more. And you also like to ride your bike. So we spend some time kicking the ball. And then you ride your bike. I don't want Simone to play soccer. There is no money in women's soccer. I'd rather she play tennis or golf. But she likes it. I have to wean her off it.
So, neelu, we'll see. What you will play.

