So there's the Daddy Group thingy I go to once or twice a week. It's winter, so now instead of going to parks, we meet indoors. Last week we met at this guy's house. Of course, I've already established here that I'm a douche, so the first thing I do when I enter is tell him his Ravens sign is all wrong. I've never been to his house, I hardly know the guy, and that's what I do. It's just... I had to say something...
See, the sign had the big Ravens logo, and underneath it said (with the capitalized words painted purple), "Count ON Losing This Saturday." Which doesn't spell COLTS. It spells CONLTS.
But he laughs, and I think maybe he didn't understand what I said, which is probably for the best.
A bunch of us are sitting there. Some of the kids play with each other, others play by themselves. He's giving out coffee and bagels. He has a lot of toys. The whole thing is pretty pleasant.
Then, while everyone starts eating the bagels, one of the host's 4-year-old twins blocks my way to the kitchen. With his leg. Now, I have a few options.
1. I can ask the host to ask his son to move his leg.
2. I can walk around the boy.
3. I can ask him to move his leg.
4. I can move his leg.
5. I can grab his leg, kick the table with it, and say, "Why are you kicking the table? Are you crazy? What's wrong with you? Stop kicking the table!"
So now that kid, his twin brother, and another girl are chasing me around the house. They stand in front of me to block my way. Then I turn around and they start climbing over me. Now I'm looking back and see these two blond identical twins hanging on to me, and I'm no longer in their father's house--I'm in a horror movie. These kids will start eating me soon, and they will not stop until I pray for the sweet release of death.
But I get over that, and while they're still on top of me, holding on to my clothes, I sit down on the couch, with the host's kids as cushions.
And I'm thinking to myself, "I've made the right choice. Kids like to play, and I like to play with kids, and sure, it was a bit rough, and for a moment, a bit scary, but in the end, it's all about having FUN!"
But my thoughts are interrupted by the twins' tearful screams. Apparently I went too far.
The Way The South Was Won (By A Yankee)
My friend Sally hails from a prominent southern family. In her father's Charleston home hangs a portrait of her relative fondly referred to as 'The Major.' ...