Here's another tip for good living from me. Don't take a four-year-old to a college football game, unless you plan to leave early. Oh yeah, and you bring plenty of cash for snacks.
The University of Arizona, our hometown team, played a game against UCLA today at 12:30 pm. Normally, they play in the evening, but they scheduled it at 12:30 to accommodate ABC Television. Since the lovely Mrs. Sneed was working at the counseling center today, I had to take the little knucklehead with me.
Sneedlet woke up a bit late this morning. He said that he had trouble sleeping. What does he know about trouble sleeping?
I put on PBS Kid's Sprout for him to watch while I read the paper. He watched for a few minutes and turned to me and asked what I wanted to do today? Just like we were an old married couple. I asked him what he wanted to do and he said, "Go to football". I guess he was testing me. The badgering to leave began immediately.
Sneedlet and I stopped at McDonald's to get lunch before the game. He stole my lunch and gave me his. I was smart enough not to order him a Happy meal because I sort of anticipated this maneuver. He likes the idea of a Happy Meal, but likes the regular chicken strips better than McNuggets. So we both got chicken strips.
Sneedlet noticed that I had the five strip order and he only had three, so I had to give him one to even things up. We enjoyed our lunch, except for the part where he knocked his Sprite into my lap, leaving me looking like an incontinent old clown. Not that far from the truth.
We wandered around for about an hour with passersby staring at my slowly drying pants and probably wondering why I am allowed out on my own. There was a jumping castle outside the stadium, so that kept Sneedlet busy for a while. By the time he grew tired of the jumping castle, it was time to head into the stadium.
We stopped for refreshments and then found our seats. At exactly, three minutes and ten seconds into the game, Sneedlet announced that he was ready to go home. And he just kept announcing it. So much so, that fans around us started to bribe him with stuff to distract him. He eventually resigned himself to staying.
At halftime of the game, we went down to the tunnel under the stadium and got some more snacks. Sneedlet said that he had to use the bathroom, but once in the bathroom he wouldn't go because "it was dirty".
We trudged back up thirty-eight rows and squeezed past all the people sitting in our row to get to our seats. After just a minute he announced in his loudest voice that he had to go to the bathroom. I knew he was lying, but that is a bluff I can't call. We left in the third quarter and got home in time to watch the last few minutes on television. Our team won, which is always good.
Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky
5 comments:
You look nothing like I imagined you would. I pictured you as fat and old(er). (Oh, and slovenly.)
Nice beard Merle!
And thank you for commenting back to me!
If you took me to a football game I don't think I would behave much better.
Do you ever shave the beard in the hot AZ summer? You two look super cute in your matching attire. I giggled through the whole thing. You're such a rockin' good grandfather! He's so blessed to have you in his life! And I can tell you feel the same..incontinence and all... :D
I seem to recall you posted a photo of half of your head in the early days. I'd have to check my file.
Now that I have a current photo of you, I can finally execute my plan.
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