Falice

Soccer

"Is all of that necessary?" FP asked Alice as she piled boxes of juice boxes and crackers in their trunk.

"I've got to be the best soccer mom out there, hon." Alice scoffed. "It's like you don't know me at all." She closed the trunk and climbed into the car.

"Come on, kiddo! Time for your game!" FP yelled at Charles. Charles kicked the ball in his direction and FP caught it. "Get in knucklehead." He chuckled. Charles climbed into the back seat and he shut the door. FP got behind the wheel and drove towards the field. Charles ran to his friends when he arrived. He left before his parents could say otherwise. FP stayed back to help Alice with the snacks.

"Practice shooting on the goal for warm up!" Fred instructed the kids once he spotted Charles in the lot.

"What's the game plan, coach?" FP put the juice boxes down on the bleachers.

"The usual. They're just kids. They'll have fun," Fred reached into the box Alice was carrying. Alice smacked his hand. "Nuh uh, those are for the kids."

"Geez, I just wanted a cracker." Fred rubbed his hand.

The referee blew his whistle to tell the coaches that the game was about to begin. Fred called his team in for a pep talk. "Alright, Bulldogs. Today we're going to have fun out there. We're going to beat those Ravens but remember sportsmanship, alright?" Fred prepared for their chant. "Bulldogs on three. One, two, three." He counted down.

"Bulldogs!" The kids chanted before breaking apart to go onto the field.

"I'm gonna score for you dad!" Charles sent a thumbs up in his direction.

"And you will!" FP stood by Fred's side for the game. Alice was on the edge of her seat when she saw her five year old with the ball. "Get 'em tiger!" She yelled loudly. "Score a goal for mama!"

Charles nodded and turned around. He dribbled the ball over towards the closest goalpost he saw. "Charles! The other way!" Fred pointed away from their goalpost. "The other way!"

Charles couldn't hear him so he kicked the ball towards the keeper. The ball went past the keeper and in. Every kid cheered for his mighty goal. "I scored! I scored!" Charles ran into his dad's arms. FP picked him up and kissed his cheek. "You did," He made him even more excited. He put him back down on the grass. "Now go back and score another." Charles ran back to his position.

"Are you going to tell him?" Fred asked.

"Don't you dare," FP chuckled. "It's fine. You're not keeping score anyway. Let him shoot wherever he wants."

The whistle blew again and the kids ran crazily for the ball. Alice came down from the  bleachers to join them by the sidelines. "How's the coaching going?"

"It's something alright," Fred answered. "You're lucky your kid is a good looking fellow."

"He has the skill, Freddie," Alice playfully smacked his shoulder.

"Just not accuracy," FP added in. Alice now smacked him for the comment.

"Maybe this time he does. Look at him go!" Fred pointed. Charles was about to score again. This time at the right goalpost. Charles kicked the ball hard and it rolled into the net. The look on his face was priceless. "I did it! Again!" He ran up to his parents proud of what he did.

"You're a Smith," Alice said. "Of course you did."

"He's got some Jones in him too. Don't forget his Jones genes." FP corrected her statement.

"Well can Smith and Jones let my star player go back on the field to play?" Fred cleared his throat. Charles got the hint and ran back to the field.

"I'm so proud of him," Alice wrapped her arms around FP's waist.

"Me too," FP smiled. "He's a star."

"Thanks to me," Fred said.

"Excuse me, did you birth him?" Alice arched an eyebrow.

"Or help make him," FP added in.

"I can't with you two," Fred laughed. "Cut me some slack. I've had to deal with you since high school."

"And you have loved us since then."