A. Marie Silver

A. Marie Silver

Scouts, Soccer, & Human Sacrifice

With the kids back to school, the craziness at our house is in full gear. The six year old is in an after school program at his elementary school and attends Cub Scouts with my husband who is the den leader for that age group. I think. I’m not sure if he’s called “Den Leader” or not. But he’s the guy in charge of the six-year-olds. 

And then there’s the four-year-old. We gave her a choice of ballet or soccer. She chose soccer. Last week was her very first practice. My husband and I made a deal that on her practice nights, my husband would take on the six year old as well as the one year old. That was the plan. That’s not what happened. He apparently forgot that he was supposed to go to an adult-only Scout council meeting where they gather around a table and drink the blood of all the kids who misbehaved at the previous den meeting.


Okay….maybe that last part was a bit of an exaggeration.

Regardless of what they did or did not drink, we had to come up with another plan because there was no way I was taking all three kids to my daughter’s soccer practice.

We decided that I would take the one year old with to the four year old’s practice and my husband would take the six year old with him for part of the council meeting. After soccer practice, I’d swing by and pick my son up, bringing all three kids home. 

Soccer practice was hectic. We were inside a large gym where all kids between the ages of 3 and 5 were running around all over the place. Parents were encouraged to participate during the practices. That was a super fun time for me. It’s not that I have a problem helping the coaches out it’s just that I found myself wearing a large mom-purse on one shoulder, the one-year-old on the other shoulder and chasing a soccer ball across a gym while wearing boots with high heels. It had been a few years since I wore anything with heels and I forgot how uncomfortable those boots are. I’m still feeling the pain almost one week later.

Other than that, the practice went fine. It was super fun watching the four-year-olds run laps around the gym to warm up, especially when they started running the wrong direction right into another team’s field.

Schedules were passed out for the games which are every Saturday. I didn’t see the four-year-old’s team listed for the very first Saturday so I thought maybe her team didn’t play.

Then, on Saturday morning, I received an email the coach sent to all of the parents, the night before, reminding them that the first game was on Saturday at 9:00 a.m. 

I looked at my watch and realized we had less than an hour to get the kids ready for the four-year-olds first game. Naturally, I was a little stressed.

I started barking orders at my husband and the kids.


We raced the kids out to the car

And off we went.

But when we got there, the parking lot was empty.

It was 15 minutes before the game was supposed to start and our car was the only car in the parking lot.

I had a bad feeling about this. I mean, 15 minutes before a game and there isn’t a car in sight? My first instinct was that the game was being held at another location. I sent a text to the coach.

Now I’m officially stressed out. I don’t have any information with me about where an “away” game would be. And I feel like a total dumbass because I drove my kid to the wrong location. She’s going to miss her first game and I’ll be known as that woman who caused her kid to miss her first ever soccer game. I could already feel the looks I was going to get from all of the other parents.

I sent him another text, hoping I just had the wrong week.

Basketball? I was confused.


(Please ignore the random punctuation mark. My phone has a sick obsession with periods.)

Soccer? Of course I meant soccer. Why would I be talking to him about basketball? I went back through the messages on my cell phone and sure enough, I goofed.

So what do you do when it’s 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning and everyone is up, dressed and in the car?


In our case, we took the kids out for breakfast. 

Here’s to next weekend. I hope it goes better.

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A. Marie Smith

Your short bio telling the story of why you are a writer and the things that you think are important.