It's Friday and I am sitting down to write my column, wishing I was outside enjoying the beautiful weather we have today.
This typical Southern Illinois spring weather is a welcome sight after a wet, gloomy and doomy winter. Normally, Southern Illinois winters really don't have much impact on me, but this past winter did.
The skies were dark. It was wet. The entire winter was depressing.
But winter is gone and spring is here.
And, with spring comes a host of outdoor activities, like Little League -- which I have already written about -- and, are you ready for this one, yard sales.
Now, let me set you straight right away. I am not a yard sale person. My wife, Lisa, is. I can set my clock on Saturday morning, when she'll get out of bed and head out at the break of day for those "great and wonderful" yard sales.
My wife is a great "yard saler." I will have to admit that. She knows what a good buy is and I can count on her to come home with a host of wonderful items from clothes for the children to antiques to furniture and an occasional item for the church.
What ESPN does for me, yard sales does for her.
I don't really understand the thrill she gets from it, but nor does she understand the thrill I get in watching grown men hit "a round ball with a wooden stick."
But that's all right.
My little Abigail, 6, is becoming quite the "yard saler," too. She loves to go with her mommy and knows a good buy. Like mother, like daughter.
Occasionally, my wife will leave the Princess behind. It's her alone time and we all need that type of time.
But, when the Princess awakens and mommy is nowhere to be found and I have to tell the truth -- after all it is Saturday morning and little Abby knows her mommy would not be anywhere else except hitting the sales -- my Abigail will break out into a painful cry.
"How could she do this daddy?" my little Abby will ask of her mommy "yard sailing" without her.
"Darling, I don't know. But I know she loves you very much."
"No, she doesn't daddy. If she loved me, she would have got me up and taken me with her."
At this point, the crying continues.
There is only one thing left for dad to do -- call mom.
"That's right daddy...you call her and tell her what she did," Abby says, as she comes up for air from crying.
When Lisa answers her cell phone, I don't really have to tell her anything. She can hear the crying in the background.
"She's awake, isn't she?" Lisa asks.
"Yes, honey she is."
"Is she mad?"
"No darling, but she is in considerable pain. And I need help."
"Mommy, how could you do this to me," fusses little Abby, as she tries to grab the telephone from my hand.
And, like clock work, it happens. Abby stops crying, a smile returns to her face and she dries her eyes.
"Mommy's coming to get me daddy," she rejoices.
"Oh, honey that is good," I interject. "You see mommy does love you."
"Yes, daddy she does."
Then there is a pause. Turning her attention to me, Abby asks:
"Daddy, why didn't you wake me up?"
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It's Friday and I am sitting down to write my column, wishing I was outside enjoying the beautiful weather we have today.
This typical Southern Illinois spring weather is a welcome sight after a wet, gloomy and doomy winter. Normally, Southern Illinois winters really don't have much impact on me, but this past winter did.
The skies were dark. It was wet. The entire winter was depressing.
But winter is gone and spring is here.
And, with spring comes a host of outdoor activities, like Little League -- which I have already written about -- and, are you ready for this one, yard sales.
Now, let me set you straight right away. I am not a yard sale person. My wife, Lisa, is. I can set my clock on Saturday morning, when she'll get out of bed and head out at the break of day for those "great and wonderful" yard sales.
My wife is a great "yard saler." I will have to admit that. She knows what a good buy is and I can count on her to come home with a host of wonderful items from clothes for the children to antiques to furniture and an occasional item for the church.
What ESPN does for me, yard sales does for her.
I don't really understand the thrill she gets from it, but nor does she understand the thrill I get in watching grown men hit "a round ball with a wooden stick."
But that's all right.
My little Abigail, 6, is becoming quite the "yard saler," too. She loves to go with her mommy and knows a good buy. Like mother, like daughter.
Occasionally, my wife will leave the Princess behind. It's her alone time and we all need that type of time.
But, when the Princess awakens and mommy is nowhere to be found and I have to tell the truth -- after all it is Saturday morning and little Abby knows her mommy would not be anywhere else except hitting the sales -- my Abigail will break out into a painful cry.
"How could she do this daddy?" my little Abby will ask of her mommy "yard sailing" without her.
"Darling, I don't know. But I know she loves you very much."
"No, she doesn't daddy. If she loved me, she would have got me up and taken me with her."
At this point, the crying continues.
There is only one thing left for dad to do -- call mom.
"That's right daddy...you call her and tell her what she did," Abby says, as she comes up for air from crying.
When Lisa answers her cell phone, I don't really have to tell her anything. She can hear the crying in the background.
"She's awake, isn't she?" Lisa asks.
"Yes, honey she is."
"Is she mad?"
"No darling, but she is in considerable pain. And I need help."
"Mommy, how could you do this to me," fusses little Abby, as she tries to grab the telephone from my hand.
And, like clock work, it happens. Abby stops crying, a smile returns to her face and she dries her eyes.
"Mommy's coming to get me daddy," she rejoices.
"Oh, honey that is good," I interject. "You see mommy does love you."
"Yes, daddy she does."
Then there is a pause. Turning her attention to me, Abby asks:
"Daddy, why didn't you wake me up?"
