I took my oldest boy to the Jazz game last night. It was his first basketball game. We were on the 8th row, he scored lots of swag, got to see the Bear up close, posed in a shot with the Jazz Dancers that would be the envy of men the world over, witnessed some pretty remarkable ball, and collected celebratory streamers off of the court afterwards. He soaked it all in, and it made for a memorable night.
Tonight was my daughter's turn. Salsa class was cancelled, so our daddy-daughter date was a few rounds of billiards. It was great fun, and I loved seeing her excitement as her skills improved over the course of the evening.
But even as I stood there with my amazing, beaming daughter, my attention was continually drawn to the firm ass and toned arms of a brunette, maybe 20 years old, who was playing with a friend at the table next to us.
Later, as I drove my daughter across town to my parent's home (where she's been exiled for a few days by my wife who "needs a break" from her), she said, "I remember when I was little, mommy told me she wanted me to go live with another family. So I packed my little mermaid suitcase with toys, [stuffed horse] Chestnut and my jammies, and walked over to [my aunt's] house. Mommy came over later and apologized, said she wasn't serious, but I remember I told her I wanted to stay there with [my aunt]."
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
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