Soccer practice being doomed again. I am failing all over the place at making soccer a thing anybody does anything but loathe with every fiber of their beings. Today's version of events involved hail. Its the hail fail. Enough of that.
Carpocolypse Now? You must mean Carpacolypse WOW!!! A few weeks ago I was raving that we needed traffic cops at Snow King and Virginian/Scott Lane. Today I saw my dream in action. And I think the only thing is proved is that its a good thing for humanity that I am not a traffic engineer of any sort. Traffic was suddenly backed up East bound too? But I do think it was still a faster ride West? Perhaps its just Carpocolypse (Or Carmageddon, I'm forgetting what it turned out to be?) is just going to get worse. I'm just planning on not driving in it if I can help it. Its odd that I am in it at all. The worst of it just unluckily coincides with soccer practice. Oh well. Maybe the JHDP will make it work better as they go. They were giving it a valiant go anyway and I suppose it couldn't get any worse? Luckily my iphone is loaded with Bruce Springsteen music just for such occasions!
Today's moment of adorable brotherly love.
So I was out in front of our place cleaning up the leavings of the winter. As I was pondering the fact that I am still cleaning up dozens of piles of dog shit every spring despite the fact that my dog has been dead for two years, the boys were playing. Sully had figured out that when he bear hugged Eli, he could lift him up and carry him around. Ok that's cute and sweet, but were on pavement and Eli is already prone to bonking his noggin, so I put the ke-bash on that. But Sully, in his usual fashion did not heed the direction and kept doing it. Strike one, strike two... yer out! Off to time out he goes. He takes it like a champ. He's done the crime, he'll do the time. Fine, fine, fine.
Eli, in an act of solidarity decided he would join him and sat down defiantly next to his brother. Where they proceeded to giggle for the remainder of the sentence.
No comments:
Post a Comment