Evan's first social studies test this year was on identifying the states in the southeast region of the United States. When I asked him if he thought he should study them, he said, "Oh, Mom. I know them already. I've played a soccer game in just about all of 'em." Shockingly, he was pretty much right.
This weekend's soccer tournament took us to Memphis. We've been waiting all month to get our mouths on some ribs from the world famous Rendezvous.
We seriously left wondering what the talk was all about. In fact, Evan was so disappointed that he teared up a little. They just weren't as good as Wes's. We told him as much and this pretty much sealed the deal on his long time dream of owning a bar-b-que joint.
Then we headed to Beale Street. We hadn't been there five minutes and Keagan whispered while gripping my hand, "This is really scary, Mom. This will give me nightmares for sure." And it wasn't even dark. Ghetto took on an entirely new meaning after tonight's trip through the inner city.
The short trek up and down the street was very educational. The boys had eye opening experiences with mentally unstable people, street performers, and panhandlers. Wes took it upon himself to teach the boys the meaning of hoochi-mama and the promise that this type of girl will never grace our front porch.
We ended the night in the suburbs eating shakes from Dairy Queen. And for soccer? Well, we go to tomorrow morning's game in first place.
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