I am working 2 football games 2day &wont get 2 start watching K-State ku until late. So, if U text me during the game i won't read it until after i'm done. GO CATS.Dad-cell
Msg stored at: OCT 6, 8:40 am
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WhateverMsg Delivered at: Oct 6, 8:41 am
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U might as wellget used 2 it, David already likeS it & Simon won't B far behind. Warms the cockles of my heart.Dad-cell
Msg stored at: OCT 6, 8:44am
The man speaks the truth. Dad referees high school football. Last Friday night Grandpa, David, and I drove to Solomon to watch him referee an American Football match between the Fighin' Solomon Gorillas and the Fightin' (and winnin') Frankfurt Wildcats. Interesting thing: they have seating for fans of the home team and for fans of the visitors, but not for fans of the referees. I really didn't expect David to catch much of what was going on during the game but he surprised me. After the first completed pass (and tackle), he turned to me with a look of pure delight on his face and exclaimed, "He caught the ball and the knocked him down!" Later, he described a scuffle at the last ten yards from the end-zone with similar glee: "They're fighting!"
But dad might not have hit the mark with Simon. Saturday, while the rest of the state was driving west to Manhattan, we headed East to Kansas City to celebrate the 90th anniversary of the church in which Jaime and I were married. On the way, David asked out of the blue if Simon would get married when he grew up. I said that I hope so; that he either marry or take monastic vows. Turns out, this was a prophetic conversation. Later that day Simon cinched the decision by crawling to the middle of the nave and picked up the orlet--a small circular rug that the bishop stands on--declaring his intentions as far as I am concerned. How does that relate to football? Well, bishops are busy on Sundays, which in the world of TiVO is probably not the impediment that is used to be, but we can hope, can't we?
But dad might not have hit the mark with Simon. Saturday, while the rest of the state was driving west to Manhattan, we headed East to Kansas City to celebrate the 90th anniversary of the church in which Jaime and I were married. On the way, David asked out of the blue if Simon would get married when he grew up. I said that I hope so; that he either marry or take monastic vows. Turns out, this was a prophetic conversation. Later that day Simon cinched the decision by crawling to the middle of the nave and picked up the orlet--a small circular rug that the bishop stands on--declaring his intentions as far as I am concerned. How does that relate to football? Well, bishops are busy on Sundays, which in the world of TiVO is probably not the impediment that is used to be, but we can hope, can't we?
later, hierarchical fans
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