Dirty Dash
We started two Saturdays ago with a morning up in Soldier Hollow where Scotty was running the Dirty Dash with his coworkers. I was SO jealous watching Scott run in the mud, and he came out WAY TOO clean. when I run it with him next year, I will make sure he doesn't get away with a clean shirt.
The Dirty Dash is a race through mud and obstacle courses. There's walls to jump over, tires to crawl through, a slip in slide to "clean off" and a giant mud pit at the end to make sure that you're good and gross. I actually have a few pictures of us before and after the race, but Scott ran too fast for me to find him on the actual course. Crazy kid got first in his heat.
Drue's 16th Birthday
Scott showered off to the best of his abilities, we got some cheese curds and ice cream at a dairy farm for the drive home (doesn't that sound healthy?), and made our way home for a quick (real) shower for Scott. Then we had to dash over to my cousin's birthday party. My cousin Drue turned 16 years old, and the whole neighborhood came together to surprise her. It was so great to be with family and all my old neighbors (we used to live in Drue's house before she did). I was so proud of Drue and it was so fun to watch her see all the people that came just to celebrate her. Her parents got her to come to the party by telling her that there was a baby bird on the ground of her neighbor's garden that had fallen out of its nest, and she went running to the back yard to check out the situation.
Real SL Game
We have so much fun going to Real games. We went to one a few weeks ago, but it was so so rainy that we decided sitting in the rain wasn't the best idea for our recent colds. Grandma, buy a shawl.
But we went to one just two weeks ago with Johnny, Kirsten, Nick, and Andrew. That was a blast. It was fun to have a night with just Andrew so he felt special and grown-up. And it was an awesome game. Thank you Dad for the tickets! Real games are so fun to watch, and it's so nice to be out in the sunshine watching a good game of soccer.
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