Amidst the everyday occurrences of Trot treating the planet like his personal Port-a-John, Rakes edging ever so closer to being a key note speaker at Star Wars conventions, and my daily conversations with my buddy Jr about whether Papi will bounce back next year (For the record? I've been in the Yes column since last August while Jr waffles more than an alcoholic given a choice of Jack Daniels or Jim Beam) every now and then something happens that makes me almost tear up.
Yes, it's usually a Kevin Millar sighting or memories of Pedro circa 1999 or remembering Schill pouring that Budweiser on Wake after beating the Yankees in '04. But once in a blue moon?
It's one of my kids.
Today, it was Ciera. Her Mom asked me to go to the store and pick up something (as usual I wasn't paying much attention) and I asked Rakes if he wanted to go. Seeing as how he was getting close to, and I quote "Jedi Level!" on the Wii he declined; Trot was attacking the computer under the guise of playing "Lego Indiana Jones" and much like a dog eating his dinner you don't, under ANY circumstances interrupt THAT.
Ciera was in her room watching the latest hot trend on Disney so I figured that was an automatic no but I asked anyway: "Sissy? Want to ride to the store with me?"
When she said "Sure" I had the same reaction I had when Kevin Spacey revealed himself to be Keyser Sose at the end of The Usual Suspects.
But what REALLY got me? As we're driving down the road talking about how I'm going to kill the first boy who pulls up in my driveway and asks her out?
She reaches over, grabs my hand, and while holding onto it all the way to the store Say's "Dad. Don't worry about all that. It's like 15 years from now."
I gotta clean that car out. 'Cause it got a little dusty this afternoon.
Thank God Spring Training games start tomorrow. Otherwise I'd be turning in my man card by Friday.
Just like always, baseball arrives just in time.