fumble

Already, England is runing my life.

Maybe, maybe I timed the baby's nap (I was sitting) for the game. Maybe I put the volume on mute and stifled every exclamation threatening to push from my mouth, for fear of waking him. Maybe I even outstayed my welcome after his parents got home to catch the last few minutes. Still: England broke my heart.

Seriously, I have watched that moment again and again and I can't figure out what happened. Does it count as an own goal?

Incidentally, this morning my coffee maker broke. Coincidence? I think not.

It's going to be a rough month.