Even in a docile moment, with all three in various states of lounging, girl scowls relaxed, eyes fixed on devices, it takes just one swipe of frivolity. This one takes a swipe at that. Another pelts one with a pillow. And it’s on.
Serenity lasts as long as a pack of string cheese around these.
So when a moment happens like the one in today’s picture, you don’t wait. You whip out your $20 Android on a Father’s Day Spiderman binge, and you capture the moment. It didn’t last long, as you might imagine.
It’s partially because the entire toy section seems to be divided along pink vs. camo lines. My girls bring ferocity, in a pretty way. That’s the best way to describe it. Not hair-bow pretty, but just enough eye makeup, usually painted fingernails pretty.
Yet, they come to kick some ass.
My sport Saturday: To watch a handful of 3v3 games Grace played in, while keeping my germs at a distance, as the only guy at the field with a chill and long sleeves. I downed a couple of Gatorades on the day, one of them pink, to wash down Ibuprofen.
When I see something beautiful to photograph, before I can even find the stupid camera icon on my $20 Android, one of my girls will inevitably whip out an iPhone or iPod and say, “dad, I got this. Your phone camera sucks.”
I wish they were this way about laundry and dishes.
Today’s word, birth, wasn’t easy. I’m glad for that. Flowers, puppies and bacon? Too easy. Evoke thought, struggle. I wanted a shot of Marie’s first real training session with this crazy good team she made for the fall. A birth into something new, right?
On Sept. 22, 1989, Hurricane Hugo made landfall in Charleston, S.C., in Category 4 glory. When the storm reached Charlotte, 85 miles away, he still packed hurricane-strength winds. I woke up after 3 a.m. to find my cat, Cybill and turned on the radio.
(Side note: We had TVs back then.)
I stepped outside. The wind seemed to push and pull at once, the heavy smell of salt water all around. The sky glowed a menacing sea-green then yellow. Trees snapped and transformers blew to punctuate Hugo’s howling winds.
It’s in the teams I coach. It’s in my teammates at work (of whom I’m old enough to be a big brother.) It’s constant, with my girls. Especially its evident on graduation day. One hundred-three seniors let fly their caps on Saturday, and look where one landed?
Grace served as an enthusiastic (and sassy) human hanger for Elise’s cap and gown.
Youth’s also still within me. I might creak and groan when I get up. Maybe I can’t cover ground the way I once did. I’m just as good once as I ever was, as the song goes. At times, I’m an old car with a fresh tank of gas, and that’s good to go.(That’s Elise, by the way, in the background, in the peach dress.)
I drew where I shouldn’t have. Like, during church. I drew when I shouldn’t have. Like, during church. Or math. (In art class, I didn’t always draw. Go figure.) I drew a cartoon bird on a serving tray at a restaurant and the girls all tried to use that one.
Marie found these self-portraits just the other night while cleaning out the games and coloring books table. Perfect for today’s word, your art.
I’m not sure how horribly accurate these are, but that’s youthful me there, on the left, and grown-up me, there, on the right. (I have no nostrils, Grace points out, but a lifelike representation of details such as nose holes might prove distracting.)
We count down the days ‘til it starts. We long for it in the depths of winter. Give us sun and sand, sleeping in and summer vacation. I’ve never been on board. Cooling autumn winds, short days and chilly nights sustain my soul the way the sun does others’.
So, this A to Z Challenge really kicked my butt. It happened in the home stretch of soccer season. It fell during a time we stressed over Elise’s college status (she got in!) and lots of work workload. Spring’s a time of renewal, too. Although it’s mostly pollen.
If my guest post list were a troubling of goldfish, they’d mostly be belly up.
As readers might remember, when I have a guest-post Wednesday without any guest posts, I turn to my phone. I pick 11 random pics and share them here. Let me know what you think. I promise to have something from an awesome guest next week.
I tried to write a succinct topper to this sucker. Twice.
First, I wanted to tell you about the Warby Parker frames I tried on, and the adventures (and misadventures) they led to. It got long, and I didn’t want it to detract from the Go Ask Daddy portion. So I shelved it.
Then, I got into soccer.
So many great things happening in the beautiful game for me right now. They even overshadow the bad things going on. The tough stuff. By far. From one kid getting a yellow card and an acceptance letter, to another getting a hat trick on a special day for her sister.
My name and I made one bettor some green one Super Bowl Sunday.
I worked at the Hilton for Super Bowl XLII, between the yet unbeaten New England Patriots and New York Giants in 2008. A boisterous man, upon check-in, clapped his meaty hands together – Gator style, although I don’t know where he matriculated – when he saw my nametag.
“I’ve been wanting to bet on the Giants all day!” he broke his happy white-boy clapping to say. “Your name is Eli? This is a sign! I’m betting on the G-men!”
Hours later, the Giants, a 12-point underdog, pulled of a classic upset.