The boy who scored a goal, then cried wolf

Or, The boy who tugged his mother's heart strings and then yanked her chain.

Rory and Ardan began British soccer camp this week; it's a summer sports camp sponsored by Challenger Sports, which sends groups of young British coaches-to-be to teach youngsters ages 4-14 serious soccer skills* for a week. They descend en masse move all around the U.S., so this week our group of coaches is here in Monterey, next week they may be in San Jose or wherever.

Rory is the tallest boy and one of two that "gets it" in his group. His coach is Phil, who at 22 is the oldest. Rory and Ardan have had a blast these past two days. I will post some action shots later this week, as soon as the weather starts cooperating a bit more.

Today was my day to drop Rory and Ardan off at school after camp, which goes from 9:00-10:30, and Rory was not having any of the dropping off part; he did not want to go to school this morning, so I promised I'd pick him up and we'd have a special afternoon at my office.

Rory at 10:58-11:20am:

"School is boring! I want to go home with you."

Rory at 4:20pm:

"Mommy, your office is boring. I don't want to leave."

I knew this would happen, yet a promise is a promise. I won't be falling for that one again. Tough love, Rory, tough love.

*These serious soccer skills include such rigors as the banana man, shrimps and crabs, and freeze tag (all with the ball). Dad even joined in on the fun with shrimps and crabs, above: "Well I'm a shrimp, wiggle wiggle, and I don't like crabs, wiggle wiggle."