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Monday, October 4, 2010

Solid Gold: Just a Little Funny

Pin It I missed Lawson's Saturday morning soccer match this past weekend...I was off in Roanoke, enjoying some inspirational and kid-free time at the Extraordinary Women conference. When I returned, though, we all piled in the car to go out for a family supper.

Duane peered into the rear-view mirror. "Hey, Lawson. Did you tell Mama about your soccer game?"

"I blocked three goals!"

"Wow!" I murmured. "That's awesome, Lawson."

Duane snickered. "Tell her how you blocked the goals."

Lawson smiled placidly. "With my guts."

"With your guts?!" Autumn giggled.

"I think it was a little lower than your guts, son."

"Well...yeah..."

Duane was busting up at the memory. "He doubled over, said 'uuuuuhhhhh,' and was rolling around on the ground. The ball was just beside him, but he had stopped the goal...I said 'get the ball, son! Get the ball!"

Lawson laughed. "And I did!"

I looked askance at my husband. "I am surprised you are finding such a thing funny, being a guy and all. 'Get the ball!?' Really?"

He shook his head, still laughing.

We were all silent for a few minutes, until Lawson finally broke the quiet. "I told Coach I was going to ask Santa for a pair of solid gold underwear."

I'm not sure if Santa will be able to find a pair of solid gold underpants, but she sure will look.

3 comments:

Mel said...

LOL. Solid Gold underwear....maybe not such a bad idea for a soccer player. It's good I guess that he's thinking ahead. You gotta love having boys - there's always something going on "in that area" that requires protection or explanation or something isn't there? I can't help but wonder how Santa's gonna handle that.

Anaise said...

At least he's good humored about it!

But isn't there less expensive protective gear he could use? :)

Lori said...

:) Funny, guys. He did modify his request to steel...I didn't have the heart to tell him that plastic would work very well.

Mel--you are SO right. Some of the stuff that he comes up with is hilarious. Like the time we were driving down the road in Myrtle Beach with Grandmommy and he pipes up from the back seat "Mommy, when is my wee-wee going to get as big as Daddy's?" He was around 3 at the time. And then, of course, there are the ticks that invariably find homes "there," and the one occasion he had a spider bite...

It's terrible. Funny, but terrible. I'll just leave it all up to Mr. Santa to explain those mysterious workings. ;)

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