At around 11:30 this morning while I was at work, all hell broke loose.
As you can imagine, Trot was at the epicenter of it all.
My boss was at the doctor, the delivery guys and the warehouse manager were on delivery's, the mattress truck rolled up and there was me, TP, and the young lady who answers the phone on site.
4 sets of customers were in the store, I'm elbows deep in alligators and Ciera picks that moment to call and inform me Trot had decided to go all caveman on the office door and walls with a red crayon and a smile.
Mind you, I'm not the most patient of Dad's and may have promised life at military school but what else could I have come up with? Throw in the fact I'm already tossing around tie breaker scenarios in the AL East, Jr is gloating about 6th row tickets behind the dugout and Rakes has suddenly developed an obsession with permanent markers and I'm pretty much a basket case.
Thankfully the magic eraser lived up to it's name, Trot toed the line like Johnny Cash the rest of the day and Rakes decided discretion was the better part of valor or something and we were able to contain the damage.
All that doesn't change the fact that the Sox are losing 3-1 in the bottom of the 10th inning with Fruitbat on the mound for the Yankees.
But it sort of helps all the same.
Is it Roadtrip time yet?