NO ... I don't mean that Big Daddy is leaving me for a nice, young, chipper, perky ... whipper snapper. Though he's been known to say that he wants to die jumping out of the bedroom window of a 25 year old, with her husband chasing him. I know, such goals in life ... and he's all mine.
What I meant was ... several years ago, when our family talked about traveling to Indiana to a Purdue football game (Big Daddy is a complete fanatic of Purdue), it would look something like this:
Last weekend Purdue played Iowa ... at Purdue ... so another fun filled football weekend at Purdue was planned and it looked like this:
I would love to tell you about it ...
BUT I WASN'T THERE.
I wasn't even asked to be there. The least they could have done was ask me so I could decline. Nope, not even close. I was left alone here to act as referee to the sister slapping, girly squealing, hair pulling, sibling squawking cat fights that took place every 10.54 seconds.
And all I got when they returned was a memory card full of photos, showing me what a great time they had. Stories of caffeinated pop, cookies, milkshakes, hot dogs, and how they've bonded. How they are the manhood of our household now and nothing can come between them.
NO FAIR!
The girls and I discovered something about our relationship too. That we are not compatible, we irritate the living snot out of one another, two of us love bagel bites and the third can not stand them ... and two of us can watch Cinderella 5 times in a 24 hour period in surround sound and the third can only tolerate it while pulling clumps of hair out of her head while rocking back and forth singing to herself.
