I got home and threw my bag on the floor in the hallway as soon as I walked inside the front door.

"Hi baby! How was your first practice?" My mom yelled from the kitchen.

I walked in and grabbed a banana off the counter. I took a seat at the bar across from her as she washed dishes and began peeling the banana.

"Eh, it was ok," I mumbled.

"Why ok?" She wandered.

"It's nothing, Mom."

"You don't wanna tell me? You know you can tell me."

I sighed and looked up at her.

"I'm already getting crap from some of the juniors."

"Nah," she waved her hand as if to swat the issue away. "Don't worry about them honey, you're a girl who's competing for the same position as they are. They saw you throw and I'm sure they're already intimidated by you. Besides, you knew this was going to happen when you decided to try out, your dad always told you it would."

"I know, I know. But still, it sucks."

She came around the counter and gave me a kiss on the top of my head. "I know sweetie, but I can tell you this: your father is looking down on you right now and is beyond proud of you for sticking to it," she smiled.

"I know mom, thanks," I smiled back.

She turned and began walking down the hall.

"Besides," she yelled back as she was walking away from me, "your father would come back down here and give you a kick in the butt if he knew all those years of practicing with you were going to waste just because a few little boys were picking on you!" I could hear her laughing as she went into her room.

I smiled and chuckled a little bit, too.