You wanna know the definition of surreal?
Reading "5 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed" to Rakes while I watched the Red Sox gack up a 10-0 FIRST INNING LEAD. Here is this innocent little 4 year old sitting next to me, I'm reading about these idiotic monkeys, who even though they've seen catastrophic injuries to their siblings from all the jumping, yet STILL keep falling off the bed (They gotta be Yankee fans. No other explanation makes sense) and all I want to do is punch something.
In my mind, I've gone into "Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip" while in reality I'm calmly reading this story while my blood pressure reaches Defcon 5.
Throw in the fact Papi hit TWO home runs and drove in 6 runs in the FIRST INNING and I'm about to morph into Al Pacino in the final scene of Scarface; I'm talking EPIC meltdown. Somehow I maintained control and got through the story, got him into bed, and .3 seconds after shutting his door was doing my best impression of Brendan Donnelly while stomping around the living room.
As I type this, it's 16-15 Rangers in the top of the 8th inning.
On the bright side? If we don't win this game, I've got a brand new flat screen in my near future.
As a bonus, the old one will have one Carolina Baseball League Official ball in it.
11:07 pm. Sox win 19-17, thanks to Youk's second home run of the night. I'm pretty sure I'll be in therapy for the next 30 days so I may not post something new tomorrow.
Who am I kidding? I'll be out in 2 hours.
I can't express how much I love this team.
Surrender the Farmhouse Sink
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