So this is a response to a convo I had on twitter with ? (I don't remember - someone remind me) about Soccerdadward.

If only.






"So your team is undefeated, Ed?" Emmett says over the noise of the crowded restaurant (he could probably speak over the noise of a large helicopter, but that's Emmett).

"No thanks to my assistant," I reply. Emmett laughs because he knows it irritates me. Well, in fairness, everything he does irritates me.

He turns to the twins, "You guys must be even better than your dad. And I taught him everything he knows."

I snort. It's an unattractive habit I've picked up thanks to Emmett.

"We're awesome, Uncle Em! You have to come and see us," Heath chimes in excitedly.

"Yeah, and bring Ella," says Benjamin. "You'll come, right Ella?" he whispers to her. Bella gives Rose a huge smile as they watch my sons stare at Emmett and Rose's daughter. I have no clue as to what is going on...but I know I don't like it.

"He's not your uncle, boys. You share no blood or DNA-" I explain, only to be interrupted.

"Edward-" Bella starts. I know that look. But it's extremely important to explain everything clearly to our sons. Especially to let them know that we in no way share any genetic traits with Emmett.

"I'm even better than your uncle, boys, I'm a bad-ass-mother-fu-"

"Emmett!" Rosalie yells.

"Well, shit, I didn't actually mean the twins' mother, because that would be sick...not that you're not hot, know your body looks even better after the kids-"

"Hey," I warn. I don't like him talking about my wife's body. That's mine. Not literally, but I have tacit permission to use it at will.

And I do.

I give Bella a look of my own, and run my fingers along the inside of her thigh under the table. The resulting gaze is much more promising.

I hear Emmett mumbling something about "milk" and "nice rack," but I don't really pay attention because Bella is really soft and smooth there.

"For the love of all things, shut the hell up, Em," Rosalie says finally. It makes sense that she could decipher his ramblings. She really should get an award for putting up with him. Or a mental health facility named in her honor.

"What? I wasn't going to use the 'F-word' or anything. Sheesh. I know better. I wouldn't be able to 'eff' you if I did."

"What's the F-ward?" my sons ask. All the adults give dirty looks to Emmett. Who grins. Of course.

Ella answers - because all of the adults are silent, "Daddy says it stands for 'fart' and it's rude to say that in front of people, so he says 'eff.'"

The boys nod, like this makes sense. Only Emmett's logic is on par with small children.

"And Daddy says that he really loves to 'eff' with Mommy. Because he really loves her. And she does it the best." Ella looks really proud as she looks between her mother and father.

Emmett is torn between laughing and looking contrite. He's sort of coughing at this point.

Rosalie looks dumbfounded. Honestly, I don't know if I should pity her or offer her asylum. She settles for picking up Garrett out of his booster. Luckily, both of their children look like they have received Rosalie's dominant genes. I had given her a report I wrote about genes and heredity, but I'm guessing she never read it since she decided to go through with a second child of Emmett's. I guess I shouldn't say it's luck...Darwin did explain natural selection.

"Hey, at least I said you were the best. Don't I get credit for that?" Emmett says.

Bella cuts in because she's good at diffusing awkward situations. She's had lots of practice - considering my family and friends. The number of times we've caught them 'eff'-ing...well, it's disturbing.

"So, yeah, the soccer team is really great. The kids are so cute. And we have lots of team moms who want to help out." She rolls her eyes at this. "Especially help out the coaches. Honestly, the only mom not perving on Edward is Alice. Because that's gross and she's perving on Jasper."

Ugh, Jasper. My "assistant" coach. Alice had this great idea to put Dalai on the soccer team with the twins and have Jasper help out with coaching. Again, I need to stress the benefits of natural selection when I think of my niece and her paternal DNA provider. She is the epitome of a competitor, like her mother, while her father...well, let's just say there's a lot more playing with "grass" now that he's around. He mostly meditates and cheers for the other team to promote harmony. And don't get me started on his "athletic gear." It's too bad Nike doesn't make caftans.

He has a brightly colored rock around his neck instead of a whistle.

What a coach.

Rosalie's comment to Bella's statement takes me away from my thoughts of It's been over eight years and it's still hard to say that out loud.

"You wouldn't even believe it, Rose. One of the moms actually wore a sports bra and booty shorts to practice."

"Nice. Is she hot?" Emmett says and is quickly silenced with a look from Rosalie.

"And here I am six months post baby..." Bella continues. "I wanted to cut her. And that's not the worst of it."

"First of all, you're perfect, Bella. And secondly, why would you want to injure one of the moms? They've all been very supportive - offering to help us with practice and all of the games since we have a small baby." I gesture to Bennet, who starts fussing as soon as I say this. I reach over and take him out of his carrier. He quiets down as soon as he sits on my lap. "And Seth's dads are really nice," I add.

"Yes, Edward. Dads. Plural. They really like when you and Jasper lead the stretching in your running shorts," Bella and Rosalie giggle.

"Told you that the Pilates was good for your ass...ets, Ed," Emmett says. At least he attempts to control the language.

I ignore him. "What about Victoria, James's mom? She is very obliging."

Rosalie and Bella both snort. "Edward. She offered to wash your balls." Bella says.

"Ball maintenance is key to effective practice," I assert. "She also offered to keep them inflated to their proper pressure."

"Yeah, keeping your balls full is going to help the team," she retorts.

"I think she really cares about maintaining all your equipment, Dr. DILF," Rosalie chimes in, and they both start laughing. I redden because I know this phrase. They've used it before to describe me and my father...before the grand kids. Now he's Dr. GILF. And loves it. I find it offensive. I don't fuck anyone...unless its Bella and she's asked for it. You know...hard. Sometimes we spice it up a bit. You know, in the hot tub...or up against the elevator door.

"What's DILF?" Ben asks. "Is that a medical specialty?" Again, we all look around awkwardly, caught using inappropriate terms in front of the children. I really need to do some research on this subject. Too bad most books on this subject are written by psychologists and therefore unscientific and unreliable. Maybe I should work on that. I can probably get it published.

Emmett tries to help out by answering Ben's question. "DILF is short for 'dad who likes to fart.'" Oh, wonderful. But it's better than the actual meaning.

Ben looks skeptically at his brother and then Emmett. "I don't think that's correct. One, my dad doesn't fart, two, that's an inaccurate acronym." I smile proudly at my son's analysis.

"So our dad isn't a DILF," Heath adds.

Ella smiles and adds proudly, "But mine is."

"That's my girl."






Saturday is bright and sunny as we load our three kids into our SUV. Bella refused to get a minivan, so I did some research on vehicle safety (though she didn't watch my entire presentation), and she approved the purchase. She said she didn't want to be a soccer mom. We had a small argument when I told her that was exactly what she was, but after the make-up sex everything was fine. Well, wonderful really. Sometimes I think she picks little fights with me for that purpose, but I don't know for sure. I do know we had a great make-up session on top of the dryer after I forgot to put in dryer sheets. I don't think she was actually concerned about static cling.

It takes a while to load our gear and strap the boys into their ergonomic car seats, but safety comes first. Of course this is is all accounted for in my schedule. As the coach, I need to be there early to set up the nets and get ready for the game, so I need to be prepared.

Especially since my assistant coach will probably be talking to the butterflies.

I'm sure I'll have plenty of help today. The moms (and dads) are always offering to do anything to help me. I really don't know what Bella is talking about. These parents are very helpful. Plus, my whole family is coming to watch. Along with Emmett and Rosalie. So we will have quite a crowd. Hopefully everyone will behave themselves. I don't want to end up on the news.

After unloading the stroller, diaper bag, snacks, and athletic gear we're ready to set up for the game. We're actually ahead of schedule because I pad my timeline to allow for unexpected events. Like vomiting or bathroom stops (all part of having three boys under six years old). I learned that after the twins had the stomach flu. I spent a fortune detailing the SUV (and replacing the carpet) after Bella didn't let me sell it. But I learned from that experience and now have a bio-hazard bag. I just need to get Bella to cooperate and wear the mask.

"Morning, brother," Alice says happily as we reach the field. Rose and Emmett and their kids arrive just after us. Bella greets everyone and goes with Rosalie and the little guys to the sidelines to set up the chairs and umbrella.

"Good morning, Uncle Edward," Dalai says. "I'm ready for the big game."

"Hello, Dalai," I answer. Emmett snickers and starts singing "Hello, Dolly." Yeah, Emmett. No one is tired of that joke. Even Nana Cullen gets irritated and she really liked that musical.

"Uncle Emmett, stop!" Dalai whines.

"He's not your uncle, Dalai. You share no gen-"

"I know, Uncle Edward. I'm merely using the term as a form of endearment. I remember what you told me."

I smile at my niece who runs over to talk to the team. She definitely shares genetic material with me.




I'm attaching the net when one of the moms comes over to see what I'm doing. "Hello there, Coach," she says with enthusiasm. She must really enjoy soccer, because she's always smiling and winking. "Can I help you with that net? I don't mind getting dirty or on my knees. Or both."

See? She really cares about the equipment. I remind myself to tell Bella so I can prove my point.

"No thank you, Victoria. But I appreciate your offer."

"Maybe later?"

"Yes, that's possible." She looks thrilled. Wow. She must be quite a volunteer. "You can break down the frame after the game and put it in the shed. I bet Seth's dads will help you."

I'm almost done setting up. I start to perspire so I take off my sweatshirt. Vicky makes a strange strangled sound, and I ask her if she's hurt. She blinks and walks off when I wipe the sweat off my brow with the hem of my t-shirt.

Yeah, she's a little strange.

I'm glad I can understand Bella. I know what she wants, and I give it to her. Sometimes repeatedly.

When I'm done I go over to the rest of team.

"Greetings, brother," Jasper says. I refrain from reminding him that we're not actually brothers. Last time he went into a tirade about some spiritual nonsense about everyone being brothers. I just don't have the time or patience. I also don't comment on the fact that he's wearing track pants and a "my body is a temple" t-shirt. This is actually a big improvement. If he'd just take off the rock from around his neck, he'd look almost normal. "Everyone is here, shall I start the warm ups?"

"No, I'm ready to start." I definitely don't want him to "organize" the players. He won't even line them up or have them count the jumping jacks. Something about "confining dogmas" and "negative karma." So...I have to do everything except lead the team cheers.

He's good at chanting.

While we're doing warm-ups, my parents arrive wearing matching jerseys with all the grandchildren's names on them. They have a wagon full of tailgate paraphernalia. Apparently they think we're playing in the World Cup.

Emmett helps my dad set up the canopy and the other outdoor furniture that he's obviously just purchased for this specific day. Even Victoria pitched in to help them, until Rosalie and Bella made her sit somewhere else (there was a minor scuffle). My mother has set up a buffet (don't ask) and Emmett is wearing a "Soccer DILF for Hire" shirt. They've invited all the team's parents into their party. I think they even have a blender for drinks.

I remind Bella to keep an eye out for any sexual hijinx. I meant it when I said I didn't want to end up on the news. I wouldn't be shocked if one or more of those couples snuck off into the bushes for a quickie.

That's not what I'm referring to when I talk about "taking one for the team."

We win our game six to zero.

Bella stops my parents and Alice and Jasper (not at the same time, obviously) from public indecency. They get irked when Bella and I kiss (there's tongue and groping involved - she really likes me in athletic pants) and call us hypocrites (not accurate because there's no actual penetration).'s a very normal afternoon.

For us.







Freals, why don't any soccer dads actually look like Rob? It's a travesty.

Thanks for reading. We love hearing all your comments.

Check out Cosmogirl7481's new story: No Measure of Time. She updates daily, and it's really good.