We decided to play a harmless game of soccer.
Little E and I versus Big E.
Little E mostly ran around, played some hopscotch, and sucked his thumb. He was not a very solid teammate.
Even in my dress and Croc sandals, I was determined to destroy Big E. I lined up for a big kick and fired away.
I'd like to blame my rubber sandals for my misfire, but it might just be my soccer ineptitude.
The ball fired off the side of my foot and straight into Little E's face, a mere five feet away.
Little E began screaming.
MOMMY, YOU HURTED ME! MOMMY, THAT HURTED!
Over and over again.
Oy, the guilt. I felt horrible. Big E immediately recovered the ball and scored on me while I comforted his baby brother. He is clearly soul-less.
So many tears fell down Little E's sweaty red face. Tears welled up in my eyes, too.
IT HURTED ME, TOO, LITTLE E. IN MY HEART.