It's barely been twelve hours, but let me tell you, five is shaping up to possibly be my favorite age yet.
At five, my girl likes soccer:
She likes soccer more than I'll probably like it when these young British coaches go back to professional soccer playing in London (have I said it before? British accents + athleticism + early 20s + caring attitude towards small children = swoon), and she definitely likes soccer more than her little sister does:
Insert sounds of crickets chirping here.
At five, my girl may not necessarily have a lot of grace: But she does have wheels: And I mean WHEELS: And she's learned how to soak the coach? I dunno, Matt claims it's a legitimate thing, and he's the parent who was actually in organized sports as a youth, so I guess he'd know...
Cherishing a little kid, especially a roughneck little girl in a handmade 5 shirt and the proud owner of four pet tadpoles--it's a recipe for getting your heart broken every single day of your life:
But in a good way, you know?