Around 3:30 this afternoon I uttered the following words;
"Rakes, you got two choices. Either get down off the counter and out of your Mom's purse or you can go to bed right now".
I realize that makes no sense and have no idea what I actually meant. I THINK it was get out of the purse or go to bed but at 10:30 p.m. I have no clue. It was one of those things you say as a Dad that sounded really good in your head but something got lost in the translation. In my defense they had been up since 6:30, had terrorized the church for a couple of hours, and thanks to El Nino or El Guapo or whatever it is that caused the weather here to go from almost 90 degrees last week to a chance of flipping snow tomorrow and it's like Siberia outside I'm a man on the edge.
Only the video playing in my mind of A Gone going yard to the opposite field last night and the fact that Opening Day is a mere 5 days away is keeping me going right now.
However, if I'm awake at 2:37 a.m. because Trot peed the bed then all bets are off.
On the 97th anniversary of his birth.
19 hours ago