A very typical French day in terms of my physical activity: I went running in the morning, ran errands around town (thrift store), took a quick trip to the park, and went on a walk in the evening.
We found Dio another soccer option: a team that practices right at the chateau hill. There's a little "terrain de foot" upon the chateau next to the police station. Eric knows the coach--very nice guy. He invited Dio to come practice twice a week with them. The boys on the team are all 1 year older and quite skilled. Dio has even played with them a few times in the past.
Guess what Dio's reaction was when we told him about this option? Total freak out, crying, sobbing, begging not to go. Eric was ready to give up. I said no--not this time. He. will. at. least. try.
All the way up there, Dio was crying. He arrived looking downcast. And then...the coach welcomed him in, the boys were really nice, and he had one boy who took him under his wing. He came home quite happy about this option, even more than "le fun foot." (Fine with us--"fun foot" is fairly far away by car, whereas this is literally out our door. And it's free!)
Dinner was zucchini fritters and pirate chicken (Mimi Thorrison's recipe).
We also had a Teenage Moment with Zari last night. Both she and Dio wanted me to snuggle them, but it was Dio's turn. Zari said, "But I asked first!" I said sorry, but to be fair I'm going to snuggle Dio. Her protests got louder but I still said no.
"Ask papa--he'll snuggle you."
No, only mama would do! She stormed off and slammed her door (waking up Inga).
Teenagers confuse me.
Also, why are papa snuggles not as good?
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