I’ve stood on a rugby pitch sideline for many many years now.
I’ve braved biting cold, hellish winds and sleet which takes the top layer of your face off to watch my boy play.
I’ve moaned and cheered and jigged on one spot to stop cramp creeping up my legs and drank more hot chocolate that any person should.
I’ve washed kit so muddy you can’t actually tell what the original colour is.
I’ve raced around to buy replacement gum shields, rescue forgotten boots, get him to a game on time.
And it’s all been worth it because look at how happy my boy is. Try to look past how muddy his damn boots are. And his knees for that matter!
Last night he represented his county for the first time in a county rugby match. And he played alongside two of his club team mates.
I thought he’d be nervous but he was elated, eager and full of life. And it was a joy to behold.
It feels like Dan is at another milestone. You forget as they get older and the ‘walking, talking, answering you back’ milestones have all come and gone that there will be others. Smaller maybe, but milestones nonetheless.
Never. Been. More. Proud of my boy.
The Rugby World Cup may be over but the game has never been more alive in this house!