We're Having Our Baby

Fifteen

Harry's P.O.V. September 6th

It's Labor Day weekend and today is Mason's and Jamie's first football game of the season. I think I'm more excited than anyone else, well except for Mason. It's obvious that he's the athletic one between him and Jamie.

The game starts at 11am but I told Em that we should be there by 10:45 to get good seats in case there are a lot of people there. I don't really know what to expect at a soccer game for five and six-year-olds, but if it means anything to Jamie and Mason, then I'll treat it like the World Cup.

"I have two chairs in case there aren't bleachers, spray and lotion sunscreen, your sunglasses are in the front seat, and I just put a cooler of waters in the trunk. Do we need anything else?" I ask Em who's been watching me run around the house getting ready for the game all morning.

"I think you got it covered. I can't think of anything else we might need for a five-year-old's soccer game," she says, "is this what it's going to be like if Charlie decides to play sports?"

"Oh baby, it will be so much worse," I wink at her as she tosses me the keys to the car. Within minutes we're on the road, making perfect time to be there by 10:45.

When we pull up to the fields it looks as if a game just ended and there are cars leaving the park, making it easy for us to find a spot near the entrance to the fields. Jared texted Em on the way here that he'll be sitting on the bleachers and that we don't need to bring chairs, so after putting sunscreen on Em and I, I grab the cooler of waters and we head to field number three.

Walking to the bleachers, I notice a few heads turn but try not to let it get to me. Em and I had to have a serious talk with Jeff about paps the other day because for some reason we've been the center of attention for many news outlets. It seems that every time either of us leave the house, someone photographs it and sends it out. We weren't going to let that stop us from enjoying our nephews' football game though, so we're just going to have to get over it for the day.

We find Jamie sitting in the last of six rows of bleachers and after getting three waters out, I set the cooler under the seats and climb to the top.

"Which team are we?" I ask, sitting in between my wife and brother-in-law.

"Blue, Mason has the neon green socks and Jamie is pretty easy to spot because he's the smallest one out there," Jared responds, still looking towards the field watching the kids run around doing 'warm-ups' before the game.

Not very far into the game, Em has to remind me that we're not watching a professional game, but these are little kids that know basically nothing about the sport. Some would say I'm taking it too seriously, but I like to think I'm just very enthusiastic.

"COME ON MASON, RUN WITH IT, KICK IT IN THERE!" I stand up out of excitement, "WOOHOOOO, LETS GOOO!" I yell as Mason kicks the first goal.

"Where's the scoreboard? They just scored got two points!" I ask around.

"They don't keep score until they're eight in this league," Jared tells us.

"Well, that's just dumb," I huff, sitting back down as Em rubs her hand up and down my back.

"They're just kids, Harry. And you're going to scare them all away if you keep yelling like that," Em says, loud enough for Jared to hear and laugh.

"Sorry," I whisper back, "I'll try to contain myself."

A few minutes later though, I find it impossible to keep quiet.

"What the hell! Did they just shove that kid on purpose? That's a penalty! Where's the flag?"