Mon 16 Jun
2008
HULLO AGAIN
I wake this morning to Tiia’s effort to thwart my breathing as she pinches my nose. Harp is not well, and sleeps in Tiia’s room. Taaj is still in dreamland on the other side of the bed.
I do my best to keep my eyes closed, but Tiia’s insistence to play with my nose, goatee, and ears, gets me up.
:::
It’s a little later in the morning now. Harp and I are having tea while we sit in the shade on the stoop in the front of the house. We don’t say much, just sit and enjoy the fact that we’re finally starting to settle into our home.
Harp walks in to check on some things. I stay and watch as Tiia goes spelunking again. Last nights rain has left several large puddles in the area that is soon to be our front lawn. The Little Lady has an ample supply of rocks to throw into them, each plopping with a small “spelunk.”
This is amuses her to know end, and as I sit here and watch her, I’m become convinced that she has found her calling, at least for the next fifteen minutes.
The Little Man walks from behind me and sits next to me, pulling the straps over the Velcro on his now not so clean Puma indoor soccer shoes.
“You going to watch soccer today Daddy?” he asks. It’s in reference to my near religious following of the EUFA European Cup, 2008 edition, of course.
“Yup”
“What game are you going to watch?”
Portugal’s game against Switzerland offers me nothing. The Swiss are already out, Portugal already through.
“Turkey and the Czechs,” I tell him.
“Then what Daddy?”
“Then we’ll go and play some soccer at the soccer center, and then will come home to see if Tiger can win.”
“Ok,” he says. He leans over and gives me a hug. “Happy Father’s Day,” he adds.
:::
It’s been a good day, the Turks provided some thrilling entertainment with a 3-2 win over the Czechs, our soccer session was fun, and now I’m watching Tiger as he lines up a birdie attempt on 18. If he makes this he forces an 18-hole playoff with Rocco Mediate tomorrow. If not, he loses, and Mediate is the 2008 US Open Champion.
I’m practically on the edge of my seat. He lines up the put and steps to the ball.
“Be great…” I whisper.
The putt is taken, about 2.5 seconds later the ball drops to an incredible ovation. It’s been a good day.
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