I've got a new verse for "Butterfly Kisses".

Ever since Ciera left me for 5 days to go to church camp, the Red Sox have gone 1-1 in July, I've developed a stomach issue that resembles Motozuma's Revenge in many ways, developed a sty in my left eye, and North Korea has test fired missiles over Japan.

Coincidence?

I think not.

This is just one more nail in the coffin of proof that she is destined to spend her life living with me and Ang and never to marry.

That's my story.

And as God is my witness I'm sticking to it.

The Mayor Returns to Boston

*Image courtesy of Kelly at sittingstill.net*

He was only here for one season, but the man made an impression.

From laughing on a non-stop basis to talking to anyone who'd listen, to getting the award for "Most times being thrown out trying to stretch a single to a double", including one time he actually crawled to second base, Sean Freaking Casey became an honorary Red Sox Nation Lifetime Member.

So you can see why my excitement meter went off the charts tonight when I got home, read my good friend Cyn's most excellent blog, and discovered Casey will be joining Don Orsillo in the booth for this weekends series against Ichiro and the Mariners.

Let the giggle fest begin.

Anyone got a Time Machine I can Borrow?

Today, Ciera took another step toward becoming a teenager while I took one more step toward an early grave.

After 3 years of fighting it, I finally agreed she could go away to church camp for the next 5 days. Mind you, I called the Youth Pastor and asked him 349 questions and requested back ground checks, tax returns, and any late fees to Blockbuster for any and all adults who would be in contact with my baby girl over the next 120 hours. And by God if I don't get 'em I'm driving to that camp and dragging my little girl back home as fast as I can.

Before you think I'm being the typical over protective Dad, this is the first time she's ever been gone for more than a night without her Mom or myself being with her. To put it in perspective, this is like a Daddy Eagle lifting his child up, flying over the Grand Canyon, and letting go.

At least it feels that way.

Why didn't anyone tell me it would hurt this much to see my daughter, the one who has always lit up like a Christmas Tree when I hit the front door every night, willingly leave me for 5 days without so much as a backwards glance as she left?

There is no way on earth I'm going to handle watching her get married someday without completely losing it.

Boston came back and beat the Orioles today, scoring 4 in the 9th and the winning run in the 11th. If not for that bit of good news I'm pretty sure I'd be in the downstairs bathroom crying myself to sleep.

Whoever it was that told me years ago that I would have less stress once my children grew up is a complete idiot.

Real Life is Funnier Than Anything I Could Make Up.

Watching the Red Sox dismantle the Orioles earlier tonight (before God sent a thunderstorm of biblical proportions over Camden Yards, suspending the game and causing me to unleash a stream of profanities in my mind over the fact John Smoltz is DEALING and may not come back out to get the official W) the following events took place.

Rakes, stretched out on the couch next to me was playing with a used cell phone he got from his Papa today and, I thought, paying no attention to what was happening on the television.

Gary Thorne, or he who I wish would get run over by a Zamboni on his next hockey telecast, was going over the all time winningest pitchers in the post-season. Smoltz was first, Tommy Glavine was second, and Gred Maddox was 5th or so. Thorne then pontificated, in that annoying way he says most things, that Smoltz, due to pitching again this season may have ruined the chances for the Three Amigos of Atlanta (Smoltz, Glavine, and Maddox) to enter the Hall of Fame together 5 years from now.

As soon as "Maddox has retired" came out of his mouth, Rakes hollered the following:

"Maddox has retired? I LOVE Maddox!"

Pause........

"Who's Maddox?"

Just when I think I'll never laugh that hard again, my future Juvenile Delinquent goes and proves me wrong.

Tarp is coming off in Baltimore, so here's to Smoltz getting that first win as a Red Sox a little later on.

Looks Like We Made It After All

I've seen a lot by having 3 children. One has been the epitome of Miss Manners ever since she was old enough to know better, another has had his moments (peeing outside the van in the garage, running through the house with the roll of toilet paper flying behind him, etc..) and the third one makes a goat look like it went to Martha Stewart's charm school.

After 3 years of fringe behavior, ranging from pooping on the floor leading to the garage to whizzing in a vase in his room to grossing out Sunday School teachers 3 out of 4 weeks every month, we've always been right on the edge.

Yesterday? We made The Show.

My 3 year old, 30 pound baby boy managed to shut down the community swimming pool for a 24 hour period, complete with a padlock on the gate and a note letting ALL the other neighbors know the pool was unavailable due to a "public health concern".

Now I know how Earl Woods felt when Tiger made that first birdie at the same age.

God help me, but the first thing I thought of when Ang called and filled me in was the following scene from "Caddyshack".



There is no freaking way I'm ever making it to the age of 50.

Blue Hairs All Over The World Rejoice

*Image courtesy of Yahoosports.com*

Tim Wakefield is now 10-3. Since I'm currently 39 years old, the fact Old Man River is only 43 doesn't seem that remarkable; when you consider he plays the game of baseball for a living?

Dude has found The Fountain of Youth and is channeling Father Time all at once.

Kevin Slowey. Roy Halladay. And Tim Wakefield.

The only 3 guys in the AL with 10 wins, although Wake's brother in arms Josh Beckett is just one behind. No CC Sabbathia, no AJ Burnett, no Chien Ming Wang.....

You get the idea. A guy old enough to be the Dad of most guys pitching in the game today is tied for the league lead in wins and if there is any justice in the world he'll make his first All-Star game next month.

Makes me want to go out and sign up for a Triathlon.

If only I had the time, will power, and desire.

Congrats, Timmy.

Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

I'm Josh Beckett. And You're Not.

*Image courtesy of Yahoosports.com*

In addition to spitting nails and throwing thunder, Josh Beckett is now 9-3 for the year following a 7 inning outing against the Braves that resulted in a 4-1 Red Sox win.

Attention to the rest of the American League.

The Commander of the Kick A*& Brigade is back.

You've all been warned.