My soccer game on Wednesday went very well and I ended up having… fun? I, however, did pay the hefty price which was a shit load of pain. Pain that still lingers into today, three days later. C’est la vie.
My mum and dad were all standing together and chatting at my game, which was the furthest thing I ever expected. It proved extremely difficult to keep my attention focused on the game when I could watch the two of them interfacing together. It was very fortunate that she-who-shall-not-be-named wasn’t there, because she surely would not have stood for conversing with my mother in the least, or even attending my game at that.
The next day my father even allowed us to park at his house when we went to the CNE. I am simply astonished that he is getting mature and that my parents can finally talk civilly. It’s been six years since that has ever happened!