We Are The Champions

Cora scored the first goal of her first game. And then she scored another. And soon, when the score was 10-1, they stopped counting (Rough calculations from the soccer mom on my left had the final score at 15-3). For being a bunch of scrawny 5-year-olds, they aren't half bad. But when it is 27 degrees out and you have no meat on your bones, this is where you huddle during time-outs:

And when it's 27 degrees outside and moms bring gallons of hot cocoa to help thaw out frostbitten little fingers,  hyper 3-year-old sprites by the name of Claire will spill said hot cocoa all over your camera. Because you are a single soccer mom with only 2 hands. This could get interesting.

Needless to say, I was only able to snap one more picture. My poor camera is covered in a crusty chocolaty substance. It takes pictures like this now:

See that blurry little birdish looking thing in the upper left hand corner? It's hot chocolate (To be fair, my action shots before the hot beverage incident would have looked exactly like this, minus the chocolate smudge. Yep, I'm that good!).

Now when Cora sees someone we know, the first thing out of her mouth is how she killed it at her soccer game on Saturday. So I'm off to teach my daughter about humility (in her defense, when the other team scored, she walked over to the little girl that made the shot and said, "Nice job on that goal. Maybe I'll get the next one." Brought a little tear to my eye!).