So I am going into May with a smile. Soccer season for my youngest is coming to an end. She has had an up and down season. Some games sluggish and then we find out she is sick, other games great… So goes the season. Yesterday she battled very hard for the first half. Had a goal and a couple assists… Second half she comes out lethargic. After games she says she is exhausted. Little worried. Need to monitor her.
R is on the job search. Hopefully she lands something this week.
School is ending for the girls in the next 3 weeks. Finals, AP exams, etc…
The Brady Bunch was out and about this past Friday night. Both my girls and their boyfriends, M, my new girlfriend, and her two twins. Plus my buddy J and his daughter met us. It was a regular Brady Bunch get-together. We all went to dinner and then to see the Avengers. Good movie.. But I will never sit through another 3D movie again. I don’t know how or why people prefer 3D. Gave me a headache, blurry, dark, and hard to see. BLAH… no thanks.
This week will be tough… M and her twins are in Washington DC for their 8th grade trip. I’m going to miss her!
Another May is here.
Getting ready for Summer
For 25 years my Sundays in the South were just like the Shenandoah song. I would relax at my nice home, pet my dog on the head, kiss my wife, laugh with my girls, and grill something on the patio grill. All the while sipping ice tea and listening to smooth music.
Sundays in 2015….
I wake up and make a pot of coffee. Turn on ESPN and start watching college basketball. My team, Arkansas Razorbacks, sputter against Kentucky in the SEC Championship game. I then watch the Rockets barely skate by the Clippers… Both of the girls invite their “boyfriends” over. SO my little two bedroom apartment with no grill is overrun with testosterone. I crack up thinking how the boyfriends struggle to talk to me. Their mouths are dry and they stutter their words. But they try. That’s all I can ask.
The kids all take my larger car to the pizza store to buy takeout…
My new girlfriend who has touched my heart brings me a “care package”. A home cooked Italian meal with all the fixings! salad, garlic break, and a little pastry of desert. I can not believe how lucky I am. This kinda thing does not happen to 45 year old opinionated divorced fathers.
Everything is just smooth…. Then Fred the Wonder Dog throws up on my ottoman.
My new Sunday in the South… I wouldn’t trade it for anything at the moment.