Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly what they’re doing, but there’s surely some major commotion down there.
I love hockey. This was something DY Dad discovered about me 2 months after we were married when I made him watch Olympic hockey with me while wearing my Calgary Flames Jersey and periodically crosschecking him with our broom. When some kids started playing roller-hockey on an outdoor basketball court near our house, I made a point of showing them to Laylee and telling her all about the one true sport.
In an effort to tire her out one afternoon before naptime, DY Dad took her to the outdoor court and taught her a “racing game” which involves running lines back and forth across the court. The only thing that sets this apart from forced drills is that when you get to one end of the court, you touch the post and say, “Marks, get set, GO!” before running the next length.
We have all grown to love this game, especially right before naptime. However yesterday as we were playing it, she said, “This is so fun! I LOVE HOCKEY!”
AAHHH! NO! She thinks bedtime-wear-out-tactic is the beloved sport?
A closer “game” would be if I ripped off my gloves, pulled her pink bunny shirt up over the back of her head and body-checked her into her toddler bed, while Dan tried to pull us apart and sent me to the penalty box.
*I chose to use “deke” because it was always my favorite hockey term. I love the sound of it. “What a great deke” sounds so much cooler than, “What a great fake.”
deke or deking:
a decoying or faking motion by the puck-carrier; the art of making a defensive player think you are going to pass or move in a certain direction when you are not. There are shoulder dekes, stick dekes, and head dekes.