Friday night lights

A little perspective makes this even harder to bear.

Six years ago, AJ was barely home from the hospital. He was dependent on me for everything.

Friday night, that little turkey not only beat me at hockey. He skunked me. 11-0.

And I was trying my best.

Beyond skunking me, he out-skated, out-maneuvered and out-stick-handled (if there is such a word) me. And oh yes, I was definitely out-trash-talked. Not that I ever had reason for gloating.

I don't know how much longer I can get away with the "I would have done better if I had a stick that shoots right" excuse. I just need to get better. And I definitely need to learn to do a hockey stop. I'm a grown woman, and I was beaten by - check that - I was slaughtered by a Mite 1 player. I've been skating for close to 35 years, and he's been skating for two. The fact that I only fell down once is small conciliation. Perhaps with more padding I'd be willing to push myself a little harder. The fact that I'm strategizing how to improve my game so that I can compete with a six year old makes me shake my head in wonder.

To my credit, I am at least good enough to make it interesting and fun for him. At bedtime, as he thought back on the day, AJ told me his favorite part was "beating me 11 to nothing." I guess I should take that as a compliment considering our day also included lunch at McDonald's and a trip to his favorite toy store.

Meanwhile, where was Miss Sydney all this time?

Check out the new helmet. It's not pink (apparently that wasn't an option). She was pretty excited to try it out for the first time. Until she got cold. Then she was pretty excited just to wear it as she checked out the players' benches on the side of the rink.

At least I can still skate better than she can.