We woke up to rain today. “We probably won’t be going for soccer,” I think as I poured my first cup of coffee. And the thought didn’t break my heart. Still, knowing the Girl had the second game of the day, I decided to drive over to the field, only four or five miles from out house, to see if there were indeed games. I’d heard somewhere that the general rule for determining whether or not to play a soccer game is if the ball bounces when dropped from the waist. If it bounces, the game begins. But I wasn’t sure what it would be like for four- and five-year-olds. I arrived at the field in a drizzle to find everyone playing as if nothing were happening. Still, the Girl has a way of getting a nasty cough very easily, so K and I decided it would be best not to go.

We were fairly certain the Girl would be a little disappointed. I saw the patch of dry pavement on the road and thought L would surely see that and certainly use that as justification. “See? It’s drying.” And so I was a little surprised when the reaction to “Sweetie, we’re not going to be able to go play soccer today” was “Yippeee!”

We ended up staying home most of the morning, with Nana and Papa coming for a visit and then L going to spend the afternoon at their place — after a math lesson in the kitchen.

For E, there were very few changes in the routine. Eating, giggling, pooping, sleeping. Repeat.

After some weeks, such a Saturday is just fine.