I’ve been in my kids’ lives since they were 10 and 11 years old. When they were younger, they both played soccer, mostly on different teams. This meant that many weekends were spent running from one field to the next, or splitting up soccer parent duties with one of us at one park–the other at another one.

Then, before we knew it, the kids were playing high school sports and cold nights waiting for practice to be over and rushed weekends were a thing of the past. Because their sports and our work schedules didn’t always cooperate, we didn’t get to be there as often as we wanted.

A few years ago, our youngest, who is now 27, started playing in adult soccer leagues. We try to go whenever we are available. Last Sunday, he had two games, but we could only make it to one. At breakfast, in between games, he said, “Are you sure you can’t come to my second game? You only have three more years.” We all chuckled at the idea that 30 was his soccer retirement age.

“Actually, I could join an over-30 league…”

I guess this soccer family has more time.