Yellow Card

Yesterday afternoon we watched the U.S. play Brazil in the final of soccer's Confederations Cup. After the U.S. upset Spain by winning 2-0 last week, we were hopeful that they'd win the cup. (Alas, the U.S. gave up an early 2-0 lead and lost to Brazil 3-2.)

Margot wandered in and out of the living room throughout the game, occasionally stopping to watch a little. At one point, one of the Brazilian players got a yellow card.

"What's a yellow card?" she asked.

"Well, if a player does something the referee thinks is unfair, like pushing or tripping another player, then he gets a yellow card," I explained.

"Like in hockey?" Margot asked. (Margot was a rabid Caps fan this past spring.) "Does he have to sit on the bench?"

"A yellow card is just a warning," I told her. "But if you get too many yellow cards, then yes, you have to sit on the bench."

"How old is he?" Margot asked, indicating the Brazilian player.

"Huh?" I asked. "I don't know. Why?"

"That's how long he'll have to sit on the bench," Margot explained.

Her logic was based on her (limited) knowledge of time-outs for bad behavior: one minute per year of life. We also employ this strategy at dinnertime: "four more bites for four-years-old." (Perhaps FIFA wants to reconsider their game rules to employ this logic.)

The Beach

Margot enjoyed her first beach vacation of 2009 in Chincoteague, VA, last weekend. While the weather was cool and rainy for the beginning of our long weekend, the sun did manage to make a welcome appearance toward the end. This annual event gave her some time with her maternal grandparents and her two eldest cousins. In typical fashion, the weekend featured a heavy focus on ice cream, lots of pool time, horseback riding, and beach time.