“That is so awkward!” Charlotte said in the cab.
See, I had just posted a picture from her soccer game on my Instagram and it flipped over, as usual, to Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter too.
I tagged Charlotte and captioned the pic, “That’s my girl, on the ball.” I noticed some friends and family liked and cheered.
Only my picture wasn’t of my Charlotte. It was another kid named Charlotte. My Charlotte was right behind her.
“What can I say?” I defended myself. (I can be defensive.) “It was bright – you were far across the field.”
“But I don’t even have those shoes!”
I could not claim that I was confused by the usual screams from the sidelines.
No one was yelling, “Go, Charlotte!” or anything, because it was Silent Sunday. Parents were not allowed to yell, neither were the coaches.
For this one day, soccer was like golf. We watched intently. We concentrated. It was peaceful. Until the cab ride when one of my favorite subjects pointed out that I had misidentified her. Then, it was so awkward!
Below you can obviously see that the first pic is not my Charlotte, but the next one is. I think.