She Scores!

I'm not sure there are words adequate to convey to you the high concentration of adorableness on display this weekend at ...

dum da DUM ...

Eliza's first kickball game!

I admit, I had ulterior motives for signing her up for the PeeWee division of Little Miss Kickball, Northwest Austin League. It's all part of the Campaign to Boost My Daughter's Confidence (and on that note, let me recount here the gleam in her eye and the lilt in her voice as she informed me after last Tuesday's dance class that during the beginning circle time, she NEVER used to say anything, but now she stands up and says hello every week!). She's never done a team sport before, and it's quite genetically possible that she's not naturally athletic, so I thought it best to address these issues by plunking her in a situation where she can develop some skills (rather than just accept the idea early one that she's "unathletic") while eight other girls, and their parents, chant "GO, ELIZA!"

Which is exactly what happened last Saturday. While we froze in the stands, due to some freakish cold front that moved in, my girl was out there on the field with her teammates, the Cheetahs, giving the Love Bugs a run for their money. At this age, they don't keep score. They work on things like, "When the ball comes to us, we kick it!" and "When we kick the ball, we start running right away!" and "When we start running, we run in the direction of FIRST BASE [not third, as one child learned the hard way]!"

Apparently, the game went exceptionally well, as there were no children making dirt angels in the outfield.

Also, they wear cool socks. What could be finer?

Okay, and speaking of wearing cool things? Our entire family received quite a gift on Saturday night: matching T-shirts. No, that's not the ubiquitous Obama shirt everyone seems to be sporting these days. Can you tell who it is? Leave me a guess in the comments, and maybe I'll do a drawing for a prize!

(Hint: it's the official shirt of the Senior Design class in a certain engineering department at UT.)

(FYI: When I saw the shirt, I laughed harder than I have in a long time. Harder than I do at Wait Wait Don't Tell Me. Almost as hard as I did at Bill Bryson's take on income taxes.)