'Tis the season of Saturday Soccer Games.

Brad and I had to divide and conquer, as Pepper and Luke's games were at the same time in different cities.  Brad and Pep got caught in horrendous traffic (it took them 1 1/2 hours to travel nine miles), so they nearly missed Pepper's game.  I spent those same 1 1/2 hours sitting in a camp chair in 104 degree heat watching a bunch of seven-year-olds chase a soccer ball while ants nibbled on my toes.

Good times, good times.

Adam wanted to have a Back-to-School Pool Party, so tonight we had ten seventh graders over for swimming and pizza.

My favorite moment of the night was when one girl informed me, grinning from ear to ear, eyes shining with glee, totally oblivious to the fact that her swim-suit bottom was sagging to comic proportions in the back "This is my first pool party!"

I'm just glad I was here to witness this epic milestone.

"Blessed": my new favorite Texas adjective.

I caught this at a church near the field where Adam practices soccer.  It is on the same street as a high school and elementary school.

I passed it just after I'd left a message for the mom of one of Adam's friends.  At the end of her voice mail greeting, she said, "Thank you and have a blessed day."

Apparently, "blessed" is a thing here.  Cool.

We have had Adam's old Spiderman costume floating around for years, and believe me, we've gotten our money's worth.  Adam was Spiderman for about three Halloweens, and now Lukie has decided it is his go-to lounge-around outfit.  He changes into it every afternoon after school and insists on wearing it to bed.  It is rather the worse for wear--there are huge holes in the sides and crotch seams--but hey, if it doesn't bother him, why should it bother me?

So, as you know, I'm a Mormon.  

And as a Mormon, I believe in life after death.  Like a LOT of life after death--eternity even.  Seriously, this is one of the best reasons to be a Mormon, because I know that all the stuff here on earth that I haven't been able to do, I'm going to have time for after I die. So, rather than make a Bucket List of things I have to do before I die, I am making a list of things I plan to do after I die.

Here's what I have so far:

1.  Take golf lessons from Chi Chi Rodriguez (pronounced "chaɪ chaɪ rod-ri-gweez", a la Les Nessman from WKRP in Cincinnati in our home--it's amazing the stupid stuff your brain will remember from your childhood), so I can skunk Brad at golf.  See, I'm planning to die first, and this is how I want to welcome my hubby to the Great Beyond--with a rousing round of golf in which I Blow. His. Mind.

2.  Dance with Fred Astaire.  Because . . . well, duh.  He's Fred Astaire.

3. Dance with Derek Hough.  I'll probably have to wait a while for this one to happen, what with the difference in our ages, but that's OK.  I'll be ready for him when he dies, since I will have been dancing with Fred.

4. Become a Ballet Contemporary dancer.  I am officially changing this Post-Bucket List item after watching this season of So You Think You Can Dance.  

This little gem from Amy and Robert solidified the change tonight. Luh-uv!!

And, while I'm at it, I may add Become Best Friends with Stacy Tookey (the choreographer) to my list.  Just go here and click on anything (or everything, in my case).  I'm pretty sure my future BFF Stacy is a fellow Story Junkie.

This afternoon, Brad took the boys to Cabella's to buy a tent for an upcoming hunting trip and somehow ended up getting BB guns for Pepper and Adam.  

Obviously, I wasn't there.  My views on boys and BB guns are firmly of the you'll-shoot-your-eye-out variety.

Slow news day, so y'all get a picture of Luke putting away the left-over mashed potatoes from our Sunday dinner.  

But, it should be noted that today I finally made a decent roast beef dinner.  My mom is a master roast beef cooker, but sadly I did not get that gene.  My skills in this department are learned, not inherited, and it has taken me nearly 19 years of marriage to arrive at this point.  Also, lots of bouillon cubes.