What if, in some alternate universe, NBC or ABC or Sportscenter asked if I would announce the game.
Ping pong helps, too.
I celebrate the sweet in the notion that the sink may not be filled with so many dishes, my bank account may rise, laundry piles will not be so grand, I’ll get the remote to the tv back.
Last night, I forced my two daughters to join me for Bohemian Rhapsody, had to answer their questions about Freddie Mercury.
I hope, as I age, I do not look back and remark, “Oh, those were the good old days.”
It’s glorious to sit next to her when something serious is being presented, an endless power point perhaps, a sermon.
It was totally Mary and Jesus looking for an Inn night.
And what is a Jesus Hotel you ask?
I am one of his forty nieces and nephews and, shockingly, Uncle Chester remembers my name.
Time to learn Spanish while enjoying a Mallomar.