What Was It That Sold You?

On Father’s Day we hauled my father to a baseball game.  It was quite an undertaking involving my dad, his wife, two walkers, my brother and his family with two kids, and My Honey and our two kids.

At one point, Kelli called.  We were trying to talk about important stuff when a run was batted in and a tremendous roar erupted from the crowd.  I asked Kelli to hold on and apologized about the noise.

She said, “Really it’s no louder than when I call you at your house.”

And the really horribly true thing is, she’s right.  My house is just as loud as a raucous Sunday Night-Father’s Day crowd at a minor league baseball stadium.  And the language isn’t much better either.  Sadly, the people in my house generally smell as bad as the fans at the stadium.  If I cooked dinner, then the odds are, the food is better at the concession stand.

Deep sigh.  Wanna come over?