{"id":20625,"date":"2026-09-18T17:02:30","date_gmt":"2026-09-18T17:02:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/?p=20625"},"modified":"2026-09-18T17:02:30","modified_gmt":"2026-09-18T17:02:30","slug":"my-8-year-old-daughters-favorite-football-player-spotted-her-in-the-crowd-and-tossed-a-ball-straight-into-her-arms-seconds-later-a-woman-grabbed-it-away-and-handed-it-to-her-son-saying","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/?p=20625","title":{"rendered":"My 8-year-old daughter\u2019s favorite football player spotted her in the crowd and tossed a ball straight into her arms. Seconds later, a woman grabbed it away and handed it to her son, saying, \u201cGirls don\u2019t understand football. My son deserves this more.\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"

After my husband di3d, our eight-year-old daughter stopped caring about the football team they had once loved together.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

So when she finally asked to watch a game again, I knew something inside her was beginning to heal.<\/p>\n

And when she later asked if we could see the team play in person, I spent months putting money aside so I could make it happen.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

I thought the most difficult part of that day would be sitting in a stadium without her father beside us.<\/p>\n

I was wrong.<\/p>\n

My daughter Kelly learned football from her dad, Austin.<\/p>\n

I had never understood the obsession.<\/p>\n

To me, football was a group of enormous men running into each other while everyone around me shouted at the television.<\/p>\n

But to Austin and Kelly, it was practically a language.<\/p>\n

Every Sunday, our living room became their private classroom.<\/p>\n

Austin would point toward the television and ask, \u201cOkay, what does the safety do?\u201d<\/p>\n

When Kelly was six, she once narrowed her eyes at the screen and answered seriously, \u201cStops people from being safe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Austin nearly fell off the couch laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cClose enough for today.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly quickly learned something else too.<\/p>\n

Exactly how to manipulate her father into letting her stay awake past bedtime.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, the game isn\u2019t finished.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s bedtime.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you said fourth quarters build character.\u201d<\/p>\n

Austin would turn toward me.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid I actually say that?\u201d<\/p>\n

I would shrug.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou probably did.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly would grin.<\/p>\n

And somehow she always got another twenty minutes.<\/p>\n

By seven, she could name players, coaches, positions, and penalties better than most adults I knew.<\/p>\n

Sometimes she corrected Austin before he even finished explaining a play.<\/p>\n

Football belonged to them.<\/p>\n

I usually sat on the opposite end of the couch pretending to understand why they were yelling.<\/p>\n

Then, last year, Austin died in a car accident.<\/p>\n

That morning, he had kissed me goodbye.<\/p>\n

He reminded Kelly to finish her spelling homework.<\/p>\n

A few hours later, a police officer appeared at my door.<\/p>\n

Everything after that felt painfully quiet.<\/p>\n

Kelly stopped asking about football.<\/p>\n

Austin\u2019s team jersey remained folded across the back of his favorite chair exactly where he had left it.<\/p>\n

Neither of us moved it.<\/p>\n

Every Sunday, Kelly still sat beside me.<\/p>\n

But instead of watching television, she often stared at the empty cushion where her father used to sit.<\/p>\n

I kept expecting to hear him in rooms that stayed silent.<\/p>\n

Then, about six months after the accident, Kelly walked into the kitchen while I was preparing lunch.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat time does the game start?\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned around.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat game?\u201d<\/p>\n

She gave me the same exasperated look Austin used to give me.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad\u2019s team.\u201d<\/p>\n

My chest tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

I checked my phone.<\/p>\n

\u201cFour-thirty.\u201d<\/p>\n

She hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan we watch it?\u201d<\/p>\n

I tried not to make too much of the moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly quietly walked into the living room.<\/p>\n

Then she picked up Austin\u2019s jersey and pulled it over her head.<\/p>\n

It nearly reached her knees.<\/p>\n

That was the first Sunday football returned to our house.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

After that, she watched every week.<\/p>\n

Sometimes she celebrated.<\/p>\n

Sometimes she complained about terrible calls.<\/p>\n

Sometimes a loss ruined her mood for the rest of the evening.<\/p>\n

It felt strangely familiar.<\/p>\n

For her eighth birthday, I decided I wanted to give her something special.<\/p>\n

Money had been tighter since Austin died, but every time I could spare a little, I put it aside.<\/p>\n

Eventually, I had enough.<\/p>\n

Two tickets to see Austin\u2019s favorite team play.<\/p>\n

They weren\u2019t the best seats in the stadium.<\/p>\n

But they were close enough.<\/p>\n

When I showed Kelly, she screamed.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre those REAL?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cI printed fake tickets just to disappoint you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stared at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. They\u2019re real.\u201d<\/p>\n

She launched herself into my arms.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad always said we would go someday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

That night, she slept with the tickets beside her bed.<\/p>\n

The evening before the game, Kelly disappeared into her bedroom carrying markers and a large piece of poster board.<\/p>\n

About an hour later, she emerged holding a handmade sign.<\/p>\n

The blue letters were uneven and crooked.<\/p>\n

But the message stopped me cold.<\/p>\n

MY DADDY LOVED THIS TEAM.<\/p>\n

HE\u2019S IN HEAVEN NOW.<\/p>\n

SO I\u2019M CHEERING FOR BOTH OF US.<\/p>\n

I had to turn my face away for a moment.<\/p>\n

Kelly frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it bad?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re crying.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause it\u2019s good.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her face brightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m bringing it tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbsolutely.\u201d<\/p>\n

The next afternoon, Kelly carried that sign through the stadium as though it were priceless.<\/p>\n

People noticed.<\/p>\n

One man near the concession stand gave her a thumbs-up.<\/p>\n

Another fan read the message and gently said, \u201cSorry about your dad, kiddo.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly answered, \u201cThanks. He would\u2019ve loved being here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Our seats were close enough to the field that we could clearly see the players warming up.<\/p>\n

Kelly immediately began narrating everything.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s Marcus.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Mom. You don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve heard his name.\u201d<\/p>\n

She sighed dramatically.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was Dad\u2019s favorite player.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI knew that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus was a veteran receiver.<\/p>\n

Austin owned his jersey and had defended the man through several terrible seasons as though they were close personal friends.<\/p>\n

Kelly knew almost every drill happening on the field.<\/p>\n

I understood maybe ten percent.<\/p>\n

At one point, she stood near the railing holding her sign.<\/p>\n

Marcus jogged past.<\/p>\n

Then suddenly he slowed down.<\/p>\n

He looked directly toward our section.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Kelly froze.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s looking at me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus read her sign.<\/p>\n

Then he read it again.<\/p>\n

A second later, he pointed directly at Kelly.<\/p>\n

Her eyes widened.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom! He\u2019s pointing at me!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus picked up a football.<\/p>\n

He motioned toward Kelly.<\/p>\n

Then he tossed it.<\/p>\n

Several adults instinctively reached toward the ball, but someone behind us shouted, \u201cIt\u2019s for the kid!\u201d<\/p>\n

The football dropped directly into Kelly\u2019s arms.<\/p>\n

For a moment, she couldn\u2019t make a sound.<\/p>\n

Then she screamed.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom! MOM! Look!\u201d<\/p>\n

She hugged the football against her chest while laughing and crying at the same time.<\/p>\n

\u201cDaddy would\u2019ve gone crazy!\u201d<\/p>\n

I wiped my own eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe would\u2019ve told everyone he caught it himself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly laughed.<\/p>\n

Then everything changed.<\/p>\n

A hand suddenly reached across me.<\/p>\n

Before I fully understood what was happening, a woman sitting beside us grabbed the football from Kelly\u2019s arms.<\/p>\n

Kelly gasped.<\/p>\n

The woman immediately handed it to the teenage boy sitting beside her.<\/p>\n

I stared at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

She calmly adjusted her coat.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy son should have it.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a second, I honestly believed I had misunderstood her.<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s been playing football for three years.\u201d<\/p>\n

The boy looked embarrassed.<\/p>\n

He appeared to be around fourteen and wouldn\u2019t look at Kelly.<\/p>\n

I stood up.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat player threw the ball directly to my daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe threw it into the crowd. Ethan deserves it too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe pointed at her first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly whispered, \u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked down.<\/p>\n

Her eyes were filling with tears.<\/p>\n

That was enough.<\/p>\n

I held out my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cGive it back.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGive my daughter her football.\u201d<\/p>\n

She glanced at Kelly\u2019s sign.<\/p>\n

Then she said something that made several people around us turn toward her.<\/p>\n

\u201cGirls don\u2019t even understand football. My son actually plays. He deserves it more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause it means something to him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly wiped her eyes.<\/p>\n

Then the woman looked at her and added, \u201cShe\u2019ll forget about this tomorrow. Just buy her a doll or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

The teenage boy looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him.<\/p>\n

A man behind us said, \u201cLady, seriously?\u201d<\/p>\n

I extended my hand again.<\/p>\n

\u201cGive it back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before she could respond, people behind us suddenly started shouting.<\/p>\n

But they weren\u2019t shouting at her.<\/p>\n

They were yelling toward the field.<\/p>\n

I turned around.<\/p>\n

Marcus was staring directly at our section.<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t smiling anymore.<\/p>\n

He pointed toward Kelly.<\/p>\n

Then he pointed toward the football in Ethan\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n

A team employee near the sideline noticed.<\/p>\n

Then Marcus reached for a microphone.<\/p>\n

The surrounding stadium noise dropped.<\/p>\n

\u201cI threw that ball to the little girl holding the sign.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly grabbed my hand.<\/p>\n

Marcus kept looking toward us.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe young man holding it knows exactly who it belongs to.\u201d<\/p>\n

A second later, the giant stadium screen changed.<\/p>\n

Our section appeared on it.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Kelly.<\/p>\n

Me.<\/p>\n

The woman.<\/p>\n

And Ethan holding the football.<\/p>\n

The woman\u2019s face went stiff.<\/p>\n

\u201cEthan,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

An usher and a security officer appeared at the end of our row.<\/p>\n

The woman immediately pointed toward me.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s been harassing me.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man behind us laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cLady, the entire stadium just heard what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

The security officer looked toward Ethan.<\/p>\n

His mother began, \u201cThe ball came into the crowd\u2014\u201d<\/strong><\/h1>\n

\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n

Everyone looked at the boy.<\/p>\n

Ethan stared down at the football.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop.\u201d<\/p>\n

His mother froze.<\/p>\n

\u201cEthan\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe threw it to her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was trying to help you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t ask you to take it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou said you wanted a game ball.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot hers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Ethan stood up.<\/p>\n

He walked toward Kelly and held out the football.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly hesitated before taking it.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. It isn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked toward the field.<\/p>\n

Marcus gave Ethan a small approving nod.<\/p>\n

Then warmups continued.<\/p>\n

A few minutes later, an usher leaned toward me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you and your daughter stay here for a moment?\u201d<\/p>\n

I frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomeone wants to meet her after warmups.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly\u2019s eyes nearly doubled in size.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard him.\u201d<\/p>\n

A few minutes later, the usher returned and guided us through a concrete hallway beneath the stadium.<\/p>\n

Kelly held the football against her chest the entire way.<\/p>\n

\u201cAm I in trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMostly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m kidding.\u201d<\/p>\n

A door opened near the tunnel.<\/p>\n

Marcus was standing there.<\/p>\n

Kelly stopped walking.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh my God.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly immediately hid halfway behind me.<\/p>\n

He crouched slightly so he could speak to her at eye level.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re Kelly, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI saw your sign.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly tightened her grip around my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was your dad\u2019s name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAustin.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy dad taught me football too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly slowly stepped out from behind me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEverything I knew when I was your age.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly looked at him thoughtfully.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy dad explained penalties because Mom doesn\u2019t understand them.\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned toward her.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSounds like Austin knew what he was doing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly smiled.<\/p>\n

Then Marcus pointed toward the football.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I see that for a second?\u201d<\/p>\n

She handed it over.<\/p>\n

He pulled a marker from his pocket.<\/p>\n

\u201cUsually I just sign my name.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he looked toward me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you spell Austin?\u201d<\/p>\n

My throat tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cA-U-S-T-I-N.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marcus wrote something beneath his signature.<\/p>\n

Then he handed the football back.<\/p>\n

Kelly read the message.<\/p>\n

For Kelly and Austin \u2014 keep cheering together.<\/p>\n

She slowly traced her father\u2019s name with her finger.<\/p>\n

Then she hugged the football to her chest.<\/p>\n

Her lips began trembling.<\/p>\n

And suddenly she started crying.<\/p>\n

Not quiet tears.<\/p>\n

Full eight-year-old sobbing.<\/p>\n

Marcus looked slightly alarmed.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood tears?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly nodded hard.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood tears.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was crying too.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n

Marcus smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, if your mom says it\u2019s okay, I have another question.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly wiped her cheeks.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want to stand beside the tunnel during player introductions?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her mouth fell open.<\/p>\n

Then she looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI said yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

When the team finally ran onto the field, Kelly screamed so loudly I was convinced she wouldn\u2019t have a voice the next morning.<\/p>\n

She hugged the signed football the entire time.<\/p>\n

And for a little while, she wasn\u2019t crying because she missed Austin.<\/p>\n

She was crying because something wonderful had happened.<\/p>\n

After the game, we saw Ethan near the concourse.<\/p>\n

He was standing several feet away from his mother.<\/p>\n

When he noticed Kelly, he lifted one hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly stopped.<\/p>\n

He looked at the football.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou already apologized.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. But I should\u2019ve given it back immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly thought about that.<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably.\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost laughed.<\/p>\n

Then she added, \u201cBut I might\u2019ve hesitated too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ethan smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope the rest of your day was better.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then we continued walking.<\/p>\n

That was enough.<\/p>\n

When we arrived home that night, Kelly placed the football on our coffee table.<\/p>\n

Then she carefully draped Austin\u2019s jersey across the back of his old chair.<\/p>\n

She stared at both of them for a long time.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

She nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad would\u2019ve been jealous.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExtremely.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe would\u2019ve touched the ball too much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDefinitely.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled.<\/p>\n

Then she looked at the message Marcus had written.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think Dad saw?\u201d<\/p>\n

I knew exactly what she meant.<\/p>\n

The game.<\/p>\n

Her sign.<\/p>\n

The football.<\/p>\n

Marcus.<\/p>\n

Everything.<\/p>\n

I sat beside her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded quietly.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cI hope he did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo do I.\u201d<\/p>\n

A few weeks later, Kelly wrote Marcus a thank-you letter.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

At the bottom, she added one final sentence:<\/p>\n

The ball is beside my dad\u2019s jersey now. I think he\u2019d like that.<\/p>\n

And then life continued.<\/p>\n

Sunday football still feels different.<\/p>\n

I think it always will.<\/p>\n

Austin\u2019s chair is still in the living room.<\/p>\n

Before every kickoff, Kelly drapes his jersey across the back.<\/p>\n

The signed football stays on the coffee table.<\/p>\n

Last Sunday, I was sitting on the opposite end of the couch while Kelly watched a replay.<\/p>\n

After a few minutes, she sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSit closer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n

She patted the cushion beside her.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad would\u2019ve explained this play to you already.\u201d<\/p>\n

I moved beside her.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. Explain it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly pointed toward the television.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay. Watch the safety.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe person who stops people from being safe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kelly stared at me.<\/p>\n

Then she burst out laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was SIX when I said that!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember important things.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat is not what a safety does.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen educate me.\u201d<\/p>\n

So she did.<\/p>\n

She began explaining routes, coverage, and everything else I had spent years pretending to understand.<\/p>\n

I probably understood half of it.<\/p>\n

But mostly, I watched her face.<\/p>\n

She was smiling.<\/p>\n

For a moment, I glanced toward Austin\u2019s empty chair.<\/p>\n

Then I looked back at Kelly.<\/p>\n

And for the first time since losing him, I realized something.<\/p>\n

The empty place beside us was no longer the only thing I could see.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

After my husband di3d, our eight-year-old daughter stopped caring about the football team they had once loved together. So when she finally asked to watch a game again, I knew … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":18247,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14,15,13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20625","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-inspiration","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20625","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=20625"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20625\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20626,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20625\/revisions\/20626"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/18247"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=20625"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=20625"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=20625"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}