“No,” she replied a bit breathlessly. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” “You look tired. Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yes. Nothi...g a little rest won’t cure.” She smiled a little at him. Actually, she felt damn miserable. “Have you eaten lunch?” “Well, no. But I thought I’d grab a sandwich on the way home.” She knew her smile was a bit strained, but it was the best she could manage at the time. “I’m sorry I ran into you. Excuse me,” she said and waddled off to the next room. *** Damien. They still had the attention span of young boys, but they both loved to play soccer, and they loved kicking the ball to each other. By the third day, we were playing a game I called Heads-Up. The three of us were in a moving, revolving triangle, each about twenty feet from each other. We were constantly passing three soccer balls, first clockwise, and then counterclockwise. The exercise kept them moving (which they were prone to do anyway), and it helped to develop their passing and trapping. More

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