The Boy

Today is the day. The Boy is three years old today. We have big plans to get the house cleanish. I have a couple of cases worth of empty beer bottles sitting neatly waiting to exit to the garage where they will join the growing horde of crap that needs to be recycled. There are also a weeks worth of water bottles, some junk mail and a couple of cans. I need to get the shit gone, but it gets to sit for a few more days instead.

My parents called last night to say that they would be in town at some point today. They know a young lady who is graduating from a local college and decided to combine their reasons to visit. We hope to have some sort of celebration for The Boy later in the week, so I am now curious as to what my parents' plans are concerning this.

I'm happy to get to see them. Neither they nor we are often willing or able to make the drive, so I don't see my family as often as I might like. I do hope that they are willing for this to be their visit, as I'd hate for them to spend the extra time and money to visit twice in one week. But I also won't argue with them.

This weekend we are planning on having some small party for The Boy. This weekend is also the end of both Big Brother's and my soccer seasons. That means that we'll have to have some sort of party for the soccer team, Big Brother's team. I must not have made myself clear when suggesting that the parents plan this, because they haven't. I haven't, because I don't want to, nor do I need that extra crap; I'm the coach not the party planner. It's the parents' job. And they should also have discussed any sort of award they want for their kid. I'm personally tired of participation trophies. I don't think they do any good and are a waste of money.

I'm not getting into that rant. I have plenty of soccer related rants after this weekend to go along with the soreness. And I've got some aches this time. But that isn't my rant this time, and it isn't going here, not now at least.