It’s my weekend with the kidlets and the 9YO has a soccer game at 11.
Or perhaps my ex got the time wrong and it started at 11:30.
That’s cool, it gives me time to run to the store and get treats, since she also forgot to tell me it was the 9YO’s turn to bring treats.
Oh, and the coach only wants them to eat fruit during halftime, so I either need to wash some grapes in the men’s room bathroom at the Food King (I’ll pass on that, i think) or buy ridiculously overpriced pre-cut fruit.
I bought oranges, a knife and a small cutting board, so if anyone out there needs a slice of navel orange deliciousness, hit me up here on the sidelines, I’ve got that shit on lock.