Party in the Van

Good things happen when we say yes as often as possible. Last night, it was a party in our van!

Jonathan and I had had a quiet day. I was working on some writing projects, he was working on some pokemon projects. We weren't especially eager to head into the windy, rainy evening for soccer practice (despite my earlier pining) but nevertheless, we ventured forth like good little soldiers. Jonathan asked if he could take along the portable VCR and Game Cube and assorted videos and games, and I said... Sure, why not? A 15-minute car-loading session ensued. We picked up our carpool buddy and they watched a pokemon movie during the 30-minute drive there. The carpooling buddy hadn't seen the movie before, so they paused it often so Jonathan could share commentary.

But it was after practice when things got interesting!

I am the soccer club's administrator, so I usually hang around after practice to collect payments, talk to coaches, and generally be available. I like it. The pay is great, about the same as I make at all my other "jobs." ;-) And it makes me feel important. As if the club couldn't possibly survive without me. I'm really codependent like that.

While they waited for me to finish up my ultra-important duties, which include casual chatting with parents (I bill that as "Employed Morale-Enhancing Communication Strategy - 15 minutes" at my going rate of $0/hr), Jonathan and his pal watched pokemon again.

Just then, a teammate spied suspicious lights coming from the van and came over to investigate. "Come on in!" we said, "And have a chocolate chip granola bar!"

"Dude! This is SWEET!" the teammate exclaimed, as he hopped in and shut the door.

And then another teammate noticed something was going on, and he joined in. Not only could they escape the rain, but watch pokemon and eat granola bars too? Boy-Jackpot, baby.

Word got out as kids noticed their teammates disappearing, and one by one they came. And they ate granola bars. And they watched pokemon. And they wrangled for position. And they laughed, and humored my need to archive every last moment of our lives in photos, and said things like "Dude" and "This is fun" and "Dude" and "I want to live in your van" and "Duuuude."

And finally the coach came over to talk with me about super-duper, critically-important soccer-related covert ops that only someone of such high status as me would understand. He heard the ruckus inside, opened the side door to the van, took one look at the gaggle of boys, and busted a gut. "What the... you brought?!... what the... this is hilarious!...."

We invited him in, but he has an image to maintain, you know.