It was "Man Weekend" that started about 4 Saturday afternoon, getting home at 1am, and ending after breakfast Sunday morning. Breakfast was piles of meat and eggs and pancakes. No fruit.
Walking thru the tailgaters as we headed to the track for the race, I had a great sense of appreciation for the men I was with -- 3 of them I'd never met before. The tailgating atmosphere was frequently un-family friendly with periodic cussing and yelling and lots of drinking (of course, I used to do the same thing). Not our men -- it was all about the kids; shepherding and herding them thru the crowds, making sure they were safe and establishing a male-bonding experience standard they can spend the rest of their lives shooting for. My son-in-law, Chad, knows how to pick friends.
We walked forever, pack mules on a mission, hauling coolers filled with drinks and hot dogs and chips and snacks. No fruit. When we finally sat down, there hadn't been a word of complaining. Do kids complain more when mom's around?
The race was great. Jeff won so most of the boys were happy. But, some didn't see the end -- they were busy developing that essential man skill that all men must be able to execute anytime, anywhere...
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