After dinner at the O.G. (Olive Garden for the uninitiated) we got back home in time for the boys and I to play a little football. The oldest loves to dive in the grass. I think the football was just the right excuse (as opposed to an object meant to actually be caught). Then we just tried to tackle each other until our fingers were blue and we couldn't speak from laughing too hard.
As soon as I got home, I wanted to call my dad to tell him about how it was just like when I was a kid. Alas. If you believe in this kind of thing, I think he was watching.
3 comments:
Doc,
I'm behind the loop, so pardon the belated comment... but, welcome home! Glad to hear you made it back to the family safe and sound. I'll really look forward to meeting you sometime soon! (Perhaps at a 2nd occurrence of a Seattle Blogger home game?)
Sorry to hear of your recent loss! I won't pretend to have any helpful words. Real neat to hear your recent example of feeling a presence!
Motorcycle shopping, eh?? When the weather warms up, lets go for a ride, and see if the wife can keep up in her red cage.
Hi Chuck...
I've gotten back to your blog and just had to respond to your last note about Dad watching you role in the grass with the boys. I truly believe that he's smiling down at me as I raise my evening martini to him and tell him what's going on. Best to Michelle.
Larry Goodson
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