This post is to prove that my blog really hasn't become all meme all the time.
My blogging (and blog reading) has become several hampered by the fact that my laptop's wireless network has not worked for the last three days. So I can't write after the missus and the kids are asleep like I prefer to do. Instead I have to do it when I find the time, and I haven't been finding much time around here lately - not even enough time to work on fixing the wireless problem.
Two things I've been meaning to write about, both of which would probably have benefited from being written closer to midnight:
His Cup Creepith Over: It took me almost 37 years before I purchased my first athletic cup, and now, a week later, my seven-year old got his first. The back-up catcher on his our team broke his hand and they need a replacement and the number one requirement to being a catcher is owning a cup. Since he, like his Pop, has an overwhelming fear of a baseball coming at him, there's little chance of the seven-year old becoming the back-up. But he wanted the cup and after seeing how some of these pitchers throw I feel better with my boy protecting his boys.
The thing is, when he's wearing it he rarely stops messing with it. And if he's not messing with it he's talking about it. He did get to warm up the pitcher the other night (after bugging the manager for most of the game). The pitcher threw a total of two balls that the team's newest warm-up "catcher" let go right by him, but he (the seven-year old, not the pitcher) was satified.
Penthouse Sweet: The other thing was the getaway overnight trip the missus and I took last weekend. Our favorite niece (well, she is now!) offered to watch the kids overnight, so the missus and I ran as fast as we could to the Warwick Hotel just off beautiful Rittenhouse Square in Philly. Despite rainy weather and an off-and-on belly ache for the missus, we enjoyed ourselves. It was sooooooo relaxing. And way tooooooo short. Our (very budget conscious) room was on the 21st floor. When we got in the elevator, the numbers only went up to 20. After that was "PH." Penthouse? Nah. But we pressed it, and sure enough we were in the penthouse. Just not a penthouse suite. A little room between the penthouse suites, but we liked it. It was especially fun watching the many double-takes when other guests would see us press the penthouse button in the elevator - especially all the high-priced lawyers staying there (on the, uggh, common-folk floors) for a Temple Law School Alumni weekend!
Here's the view from our penthouse window (photo courtesy of the missus):
We now return you to your memes, already in progress.
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