Dreaming

So I thought I should get with the sports-loving program and get my kids to a tv to watch the World Cup, which meant going to a restaurant and buying a meal and eating bad food, which could've paid for my month of cable.  But oh look!  Friends are going too, so even better for me, we meet and watch a good game (until it was a bad game) and go home crushed. But I see my son in the backyard with the soccer ball and the trees are the goalposts and he is Zusi or Ronaldo or whoever with his arms up in the air, all by himself,  dreaming about his big moment and game-winning goal and time freezes and I wish his childhood would freeze too.  Worth it.  It always is.