Where Did I Go Wrong?
It was about 9:45 last night. I was watching ESPN's coverage of the Astros and Padres to wrap up the most important religious holiday on my calendar -- Opening Day.
It's Spring Break week here in beautiful south-central Wisconsin, so both heirs to the palatial estate were home with me. Between the pair of them, the Younger Heir is the one who enjoys the sporting life (he even likes football, for some reason). So he was with me pretty much from the Ernie Banks statue unveiling all the way through the festitivities in San Diego.
Like I said, it gets to be about 9:45 (and it's not a school night, so no cracks about my parenting abilities). The Younger Heir turns to me and says, "I think I watched too much baseball today."
I got right up in his grill and said, "Don't ever say that again. Not even in jest."
I mean, geez -- too much baseball? As if! Would you complain that the atmosphere had too much oxygen? Or that the radio played too much Beatles? Or that the best novel ever was just too much Jane Austen?
Hells, no!
He's young, so I'll cut him some slack. This time...
It's Spring Break week here in beautiful south-central Wisconsin, so both heirs to the palatial estate were home with me. Between the pair of them, the Younger Heir is the one who enjoys the sporting life (he even likes football, for some reason). So he was with me pretty much from the Ernie Banks statue unveiling all the way through the festitivities in San Diego.
Like I said, it gets to be about 9:45 (and it's not a school night, so no cracks about my parenting abilities). The Younger Heir turns to me and says, "I think I watched too much baseball today."
I got right up in his grill and said, "Don't ever say that again. Not even in jest."
I mean, geez -- too much baseball? As if! Would you complain that the atmosphere had too much oxygen? Or that the radio played too much Beatles? Or that the best novel ever was just too much Jane Austen?
Hells, no!
He's young, so I'll cut him some slack. This time...
Labels: assorted stuff, innermost recesses of the soul, Opening Day
posted by Bob at
7:46 PM
2 Comments:
I wasn't aware that Jane Austen wrote Ragtime, Great Expectations, War and Peace, or Remembrance of Things Past. I'll have to rearrange my bookshelves...
By
Jim, at 8:33 PM
Oh, no you didn't! Just a reminder, pal -- I've got a sheet of paper from an accredited institution of higher learnin' that I'm an expert on readin' and writin' and all that fancy book stuff. So you'd best be reaarangin' your shelves. With a quickness! At least you didn't sully the comments page with any of that Samuel Clemens nonsense you (for some reason) seem to enjoy...
By
Bob, at 9:41 PM
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