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George, wake up.
It's Saturday.
I know, but it's the first day of soccer.
It's our first game.
I can't today. I caught a cold while sleeping.
You'll be fine.
Come on, come on, it'll be great.
We're going to play like Brazilians.
- Here you go.
- Thanks, Mom.
Stuart, don't forget your water bottle.
Don't forget your cleats.
You look especially beautiful today.
Some people just know how to wear oatmeal.
Okay, open up.
Did you hear that? She said "blah-blah."
I can't believe it.
Her first word.
Where's the baby book? I'm writing it down.
I'm not sure that's technically a word.
Of course it is.
But your Uncle Crenshaw says
that every Little starts talking by nine months.
In Uncle Crenshaw's case, never stops.
Are you both coming to the game?
Wouldn't miss it.
...this soccer game's making me very....
- Proud?
- Anxious. Especially about....
- I'm fine.
- He's fine.
All those boys stomping around with cleats.
What if someone....
Oh, honey. He's a Little.
All Littles are natural athletes.
- Do you need....
- Could you?
Okay, that's it for you.
Snow, food.
Food? Is it tuna? Or herring?
Or, dare I say it, is it lox?
Oh! Please be lox!
That's for you.
- Boys, are we ready to play some soccer?
- You bet, Dad.
Oh, great. It's glop.
Look what I'm reduced to.
I'm a Handi Wipe with hair.
Wallace! Get up! There we go!
That's right! Dig! Dig!
Go downfield! Downfield!
You guys, spread out! Spread out!
Well, George is getting a workout.
What bothers me is that every kid
has had a chance to play except Stuart.
There's plenty of time.
Plenty of time? There's 40 seconds.
He did an excellent job
of handing out the orange slices.
That's not as easy as it looks.
Okay, I'm glad he's not in the game.
I don't want him to get hurt.
It's Pee-Wee soccer. Nobody gets hurt.
Irwin, are you okay?
Are you all right, Irwin?
Do I look all right?
Here. Come on.
Better substitute.
Tie game. We could play with just 10.
But we have George, so it's like having nine.
We'll have none of that.
Come on, coach.
Stuart! Go in for Irwin!
Mom! Dad! I'm going in!
Yeah, Stuart!
Oh, dear.
Watch your tail out there.
Don't worry, I won't let you down.
Now, go get them.
Let's go, let's go! Come on!
Over here! I'm open!
I got it! I got it!
- I'm going to snatch him off the field.
- Honey, honey.
Knowing boys as I do,
I think he might find that a little....
Get it, George!
Go after it!
Pass me the ball, lame-o. Come on.
George, shoot!
I got it! I got it!
I got it! I got it!
Yeah, I did it!
I have to start wearing a cup.
He just looked so small out there.
So lacking in bigness.
Does he really have to go back next week?
We have to give him room to grow.
I do. I let him slice his own banana.
With a spoon.
I let him drive his car to school.
No other mother does that.
With George walking beside him
every step of the way.
How much more room should I give him?
A bit more than you're giving him now.
Maybe Mom was right.
Maybe I shouldn't be playing soccer anymore.
What does she want you to go out for?
Painting or dancing.
I guess it's my fault.
I'm sorry I kicked you into the goal.
That's okay. You won the game.
That's the main thing.
No. The main thing is I hit Wallace in the face.
Bogeys, 12:00! I got him, Brooklyn!
Wouldn't it be cool if I actually flew this?
Yeah. There's only one problem.
- Hello, Mrs. Little.
- Hi, Will.
- ls George home?
- He's with Stuart.
We just need to tighten her up
and she's ready to fly.
Hi, George. Hi, Stuart.
Hi, Will.
You want to take a break for a while?
I brought my PS2.
Yeah, okay.
But what about the plane?
I want to play with Will for a while.
Play with Snowbell.
Oh, well. Guess I'll have to finish it myself.
If I can just....
Oh, dear.
Hey, what's that noise?
Sounds like a lawnmower.
Inside the house?
What are you doing?
I'm not doing anything!

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