Competition Day.

Not what I want to see first thing in the morning.

Their excitement is evident. It’s the day when they get to see if those three-hour practices have paid off.

We build a fire before practice. I try to focus on my breath, but I just hear my frustration.

I work on the words in my head. Unfortunately, this is a conversation I know how to have.

There is a slowness to the day that is almost uncomfortable.

Why does she think she can be in here without a mask on? In some ways, I honor the audacity to not do the one thing everyone else in the store is doing. But also - why? Why, for the 5 minutes you are in here can you not just put it on?

If one was coming, I knew it would be her.

Two rolls of Lifesavers Butter Rum candies.

“Are you okay?” “No, I’m not okay.” “Why?” “I’ve got to write this text to these parents.”

It’s not fair. It’s just really not fair.