Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, I love working… but Mondays: The first day back after a couple of days of some serious God, family and friend time, and all I want to do, or to be, is with my family and friends.
Or maybe I have it wrong? Let’s see:
Weekends are when I see our first born score the first goal using her right foot, one-timing it off a beautiful cross from the right side, in a game against a team who completely obliterated them in her team’s first tournament (she did score in that game during the tourney, mind you…), and they ended up winning that game.
Weekends are when I hear our second born (6 years old) blurt out the alphabet BACKWARDS. Neither Kim nor I ever knew she could do such a task, and it was awesome to hear her say it.
Weekends are when I get the awesome feeling when Jack says “Dada” and is looking right at me, telling me that he’s saying it on purpose. (Even though he’ll turn around, look at a ball, or other toy and call THAT dada also… hah).
Weekends are when, through weeks, maybe months of preparation I get to see how much my wife loves me. (Seriously babe, best party ever.)
Weekends are when I get to see an old QB who many of us (in my family) have invested in emotionally, come back from 21 points to ALMOST create a fairytale ending, only to remind us why we’ve “let go” of any hope that the #1 pick of ’05 is going to lead us to another Superbowl.
I guess, if I look at the glass being half-full, I can just say I REALLY look forward to weekends, instead of saying I hate Mondays. Right? *sigh*
