I can't drink her pop, we don't share the same soul

Only a 10 year old girl could apply metaphysics to gatorade, and unfortunately I didn't have time to discuss the concept of "soul mates" with Soapinator and her friend at yesterday's soccer game. So, I'm down two gatorades. No matter, it's taper time. I feel at a loss for what to do, being fully convinced now that all of my conditioning is diminishing exponetially and that I will arrive in Florida barely able to run down the sand into the surf. The logic of taper is so irrational. Hyphen Girl is playing soccer this fall and we froze as spectators at last nights game, but it was worth the effort-the girls won 2-1.

It's Soapinator's birthday today, yea for ten years of blessing with this kid. She's just one of those kids who are easy to have around, and her birthday reminds us how fortunate we are.

Buck Naked Boy is a whole other story, unless of course, you want a detailed description of chest proportions. He is at that stage where a keen awareness of body parts dominates his thoughts, and tonight he filled me in on the size and shape of each family members breasts, boys included, while we peeled potatos. Fascinating, I assure you.

We had recess duty yesterday. Mostly same old, same old. With the exception of Queen Gertrude. One of the first grade girls had convinced a large contingent of the kindergarten class that she was "Queen of Everything" She had many loyal subjects, some of whom even paid her money to curry favor and remain as subjects in her kingdom. The kingdom came to an end yesterday when the first grade teachers resolved the drama, and Gertrude isn't allowed to play with kindergarteners for two days. Who says the devil wears Prada?

Then there was "Hammy"

Hammy was heaved over the chain link fence that marks the border of the playground. It took 20 questions to finally understand what Hammy was and why it was so important to retrieve. Turns out the fifth grade class had discovered a dead squirrel, adopted it as their own, buried it and Hammy was the memorial stone.

Yea, gross. In particular, because as I understand it, Hammy was "sacred" because parts of the squirrel were petrified to it.

Ironman North America sent me an email today. The last "out"

"We will be assigning race numbers for IMFL on Friday, October 20th. If you do not intend to race and do not want to be assigned a number please contact us."

No chance.

Of course it would be great to get #1406. Time to start packing the warm weather clothes up for The Tribe, we leave 2 weeks from today.

Zoinks!