Punky's First Soccer Game

It was a momentous day in the Ferrier household- the day of 3-year-old Punky's very first soccer game. I'd like to say she was excited about the occasion. But I'd be lying.

Instead, Punky made it clear that she was hoping to lounge around the den wearing her Disney Princess nightgown and watching her new Disney Princess DVD. Only with great effort did I manage to convince her to put on her, um, stylishly oversized uniform and leave the house in time for the match up.

Once there, she dutifully ran around the field for a bit- at least until she was elbowed by a girl on the other team. As the melee of girls progressed down the field, Punky stopped where she was, turned to me and promptly burst into tears. Like a good mom, I was prepared for this possibility and simply held out my arms. She ran to me and I hugged her, then gave a five minute pep talk that included the promise of "a really special present" if she would just go back out there and freakin' play the game, for the love of Pete.

I felt a twinge of guilt about the bribe- at least until a player from the other team ran sobbing to her father's arms beside me.

"Go back out there and play," he said gruffly, "and you'll get a sucker! Now go!" With that promise, the kid promptly stopped crying and scooted back onto the field. Before the game ended, I heard other parents promising everything from french fries to a pony if their little daughters would just chase the dang ball for a few more minutes.

Anyway, Punky made it through most of the second half before deciding she'd had it.

After plunking herself down and refusing to get up, Coach Daddy was forced to carry her off the field. That's my girl!

After a brief rest, she was back on the field, ready for more action. Apparently, she had decided that tears were for amateurs; take a look at her unsympathetic glare while poor little number five sobs her heart out.

In the end, I decided, 3-year-old soccer isn't so much about the kids as the parents. The children have no idea what's going on, but the parents sure do have a good time laughing and taking pictures.

And by the way, we creamed them. No thanks to Punky.

This post originally appeared on Parents.com.