Today I volunteered to take Terry’s place on the soccer field in the local league game since I was the one who took him mountain biking and therefore feel slightly responsible for his little ‘kissing of the earth’ incident in Idaho last week. He’s actually just fine, but the cold sores that resulted from hitting his mouth still hurt too much to run. So I told his coach I would play for him. So I went in at outside midfield (i.e. winger, i.e. the position who runs the most), and being the only girl on the field, I’m about 10 years past my prime of playing outside midfield against boys. One guy got the ball and is about to beat me, so I did the one thing I’ve instinctively learned to do very well in 18 years of soccer playing...I pulled his jersey.

Now you would think that in 18 years of my uber-competitiveness on the soccer field and therefore freeeequent jersey pulling, yes, you would think that I should know what I am doing. I thought I was a pro jersey puller. But apparently not. Instead, my poor little pinky finger looks like what you see in the picture above.

I’ll get it checked out tomorrow. Its just a pinky so no big deal. But seriously, I think we do need to start looking for a padded room to live in.

Oh, and we won the game.