soccer and moving out
I believe that the first thing listed when mentioning why I don't want to live with the parents anymore, I say "I hate the sounds of soccer spread through out the house on my days off". This weekend, I'm forced, more than ever, to hear the roaring sounds of soccer; well, this entire month basically. I'm walking through out, packing and preparing to move out permanently, and realizing that It's going to be the last days I do hear such sounds. Brazil played the world cup today. It was intense. Upon giving my father a Father's Day hug, I sat down next to him and kinda sorta started watching the game. Needless to say I got hooked. Then came Brazil's second goal. Wow. I screamed. Ironic.
So then I asked my dad what teams were left to play. He pulls out his color coordinated chart, explaining to me who's next. With a bowl of peanuts and Yorkie companion, my dad's probably had the best month in a long time and I finally enjoyed soccer. Nice farewell.
So then I asked my dad what teams were left to play. He pulls out his color coordinated chart, explaining to me who's next. With a bowl of peanuts and Yorkie companion, my dad's probably had the best month in a long time and I finally enjoyed soccer. Nice farewell.