Saturday was eventful to say the least. Where to even start?
My dear, sweet, husband had worked his hardest to secure a place for us to stay as a family after the ballgame. On our way into town, we decided to find it and check it out. Well, let's just say that after seeing it, I was extremely skeptical, and that's an understatement. I think what I actually said was, "I hope nobody's cooking crystal meth next door." Seriously. Not exaggerating. Not even a little.
However...maintaining Anthony's gameday mentality is a must. It's what he lives for, and I didn't want to ruin the day. I can deal with just about anything for one night, right? It's okay if there are stray animals on a gravel road with dirty diapers in the driveway--I can deal. I just kept telling myself that.
Moving on. Sam's performance was pretty darn good. Except for the fact that we've been working on potty-training, and he chose Saturday to have stomach issues. TMI. I know. He really was great. He loves a cowbell, and he loves Bully, so Saturday was a great day for him. He ate an inordinate amount of sweets, but that's no real surprise.
Anthony went into the game and left the 2 of us at our tailgate to watch the game there. I got to see us come out of the tunnel, and then....kids throwing a football knocked over the satellite. I didn't get to see the game at all. Ask me how unhappy I was. Just ask me.
I'll tell you. I was furious. We had warned them multiple times to watch out, but they didn't seem to care. And they were old enough to know better. I was bitter to say the least.
Anthony came out at the half to get some tylenol for a headache, and we decided that we would leave a check for the people whose house we rented, mess up the sheets, and head home after the game. Thank. The. Lord.
It was a long day with some complications, but Sam was great, the Dawgs played well, and I didn't have to stay in a crack-house. Pretty good day.
