Estrogen?

Aspen asked to play soccer this season.

I was 98% certain she made her choice because she enjoyed the running, the kicking, the team spirit.

Dare I mention that 2% of me felt her interest in soccer lied somewhere between receiving treats and cool drinks after each game and the possibility of handstands in the goalie box with a fellow defender?

Nonetheless, I signed her up because she did have some desire, and it is my joy as her mother to see her chase her dreams.

But...

After insisting she wear her cleats for practice and then getting a huffy "Mom, your driving me up the wall!" coupled with an "I hate this family!!!" when Mick and I left the choice to wear cleats or stay home up to her, my 2 % certainty may have changed.

Now it may be a mix of a) how many friends she has on the team and, b) how fashionable she may or may not look in her cleats; or c) her ability to drive me up the wall and make me laugh.

Incidentally, she returned home from practice in tears, favoring a twisted ankle.

Warmed with love, hot chicken noodle soup, and two glasses of water later, the same girl that threw hatred at me, told me "thank you, mom" as her foot sat on an ice pack.

All bets are on I drive her up the wall next week when I demand she wear her hair in a ponytail.