I had a laser procedure on my eye last week. My son asked me afterwards if I had Superman vision. You would think he is seven or eight. He is twenty three. Boys will be boys.
I went to bed last night happy that I was going to be able to sleep a little later, have a good breakfast, write my blog and then go throw some snow around.
My neighbor Al, a nice guy, had a different plan. I awoke this morning at about 6 AM to the sounds of his Toro straining against the weight of over a foot of snow as he was clearing his driveway. His snow thrower even has a headlight on it.
My father in law is a 92 year old WW II veteran and was my surrogate father when it mattered. To look at him you would never know. He has his hair and it is still mostly naturally brown. He has lost much of his belly, but his cheeks are full and he could be an ARRP poster boy. However, as it must for all of us, his body and mind are failing him. Anyone of a certain age has experienced it with their parents as they seemingly reverse roles with their children.
A few days ago, after a morning workout at the gym, I went to the snack bar for my "regular". The woman behind the counter greeted me with a smile and asked "The Regular?" A nod. Another nod and the breakfast smoothie with pineapple, mango, in orange juice, with a vanilla protein shot was under way.
My 11 year-old son recently got accepted into the SOAR program at school, which is an after school group that focuses on engineering, flight and space. We were both thrilled.
Anyone who knows me knows I am not a sports fan. I do, however, look forward to the Super Bowl. I enjoy having friends and family over and sharing the evening with them. Mostly, though, I enjoy the hype of the commercials.