Olé Olé Olé Olé

Father's Day this year was great! Amy and I made a fancy, complicated dinner for my dad (snapper... mmm!). Danny had to work, but we all got to spend a little bit of time together before he left. The kids gave him the 3 volume Lord of the Rings extended edition looks-like-a-set-of-books DVD collection that he'd been ogling on ebay for months. And, because I couldn't be a a functional mom without him, I got him a gift too-- a gift that no other wife in the world would get her husband. But because Danny is awesome and trustworthy, I knew he could handle the responsibility... I got him cable.

What I really got him, was the almost-greatest desire of his heart-- the World Cup in his living room. I love World Cup soccer. It's the only soccer I watch and it only comes around once every four years but when it comes, I'm as big a soccer fan as the rest of the non-American world. My soccer playing husband got me hooked the year I was pregnant with Dominic, when all I wanted to do that summer was lounge on the couch anyway. We started this tournament like we did the 2006 one, printing out a bracket from ESPN's website, and making our best, uneducated guesses of the outcomes. Then we watch the fun games with our On Demand capabilities. Occasionally I embrace technology.

I commented to Danny earlier today that I couldn't be a referee, I don't have the attention span for it. And it's true, I spend most of the game wondering. I wonder how they fit those long Greek names on the jerseys. I wonder at how closely the Aussies resemble their native fauna. I wonder if anyone else thinks Paraguay games look like a page out of a Where's Waldo book. Is it just me or is Kaka's face exceptionally symmetrical? My favorite team is Brazil. Not just because they play fair and tend to win, but because they dance! I learned this year that their style has a name: Samba. That's my kind of soccer. But you didn't come here to read about soccer. You want to know about the kids. [Enter Dominic darting through the living room with a jock cup on his face, clutching a headless Wall-E figurine, with Noemie behind him screaming like a banshee] "Mami, Noemie me esta persiguiendo!" Amy turns to me and says, "There's got to be a more age-appropriate word for "chasing." I see her point. Cristovan is largely oblivious but smiles politely because he is a saint. Or a baby. But let's go with saint.

Wallabies? Footballers? Bet you weren't sure!

When Waldos attack

Happy baby!

Happy Father's Day!