A Fox in the Hen House.

Good Morning peeps. My son texted me on Friday night and told me he was in a soccer tournament and if i wanted to i could come to the soccer field and watch. Thats a switch, he had always discouraged me from going to watch him play. Then i figured out he was not playing, he was coaching, good trick eh, his girls team is tops and probably just wanted to show off. I said we would love to go.

I never invited my parents to one of my soccer games even when my team was the best on the island. My dad thought playing was a waste of good time, working made me a man.

How things have changed. I grew up with the threat of a strap and a continuous reminder that the work ethic was important. My kids grew up with a balance of sports and school. You do well at one it feeds the other. I even sent my older son to a school where soccer was part of the curriculum. That was a mistake, the experiment didnt last too long, he soon forgot why he was there. As a result he spent an extra half year in HS finishing. He probably kill me for saying that, oh well he has a degree now.

The most important lesson my upbringing taught me is that the strap is not a requirement for raising good kids, i have never struck my kids and they were handfulls, probably more of a broogadoom than i ever was.

Anyway im drifting, my son and soccer yesterday.

Before i go there i must tell you another story. In my hayday as a teenager I had accidentally developed a reputation of being a player. It wasnt me. Remember that song? I recall one sunny afternoon walking down Central Street, in the distance i saw a certain female i liked with her mom walking toward me. I started immediately to practise my gentleman greeting. As it turned out i didnt need it, when her mom saw me approaching she grabbed her daughters hand and crossed the street.

The next day i asked my friend what that was about to which she replied, ‘my mom knows all about your reputation’. I was crushed, as i said, it wasnt me.

Back on track, there are six fields in the soccer complex and Jo and I walked around looking for a teenage girls game with male coach. There was none, maybe we got the time wrong. We decided to make one last go around then in the distance we saw number one son waving at us. He was not coaching, he was playing on a co-ed team. The dude was playing with girls. I am thinking what a trickster, the Fox in the Hen House.

Before you get any ideas, i must explain, i grew up in a society where there were segregation between boys and girls. The mistrust and labelling premuated the entire society. I was labelled even before i knew what it meant to be a player. My kids were brought up differently. They were encouraged to have both male and female friends. OK not my daughters entirely.

At the end of the game there were hugs and high fives then they all drifted off to the change rooms, hmmm i wonder if those are co-ed and look no parents, go figure, imagine the possibilities.

Life is completely different today, wish I was his age, hahahaaha. Kidding.

As always,

Dont forget to greet a total stranger today.

Another daughter of the soil, my pal Mosi

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