(Listening to “6 Underground” by the Sneaker Pimps)

My good friend, Jess, came to town last weekend.  Before I write about it, I want to thank the wife.  Without her, the weekend wouldn’t have happened.  She took care of the kids, made meals (except for the 50 tamales my co-worker’s mom made), made caramel corn, and gave me the free time to hang out with my friend.  Plus, she stood out in the cold with the girls to see Sky and Chase at the frozen yogurt shop!

We both understand that sometimes we need to feel like humans instead of parents.  That’s why I call my blog “Dad vs. Human.”  The “human time” is needed to recharge the batteries so I can be a better dad.  This weekend was my turn.  The wife’s turn will come in a couple of weeks when her mom comes to town.  It’s what we do, and honey, thank you so much.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.

Jess and I did make sure to spend time with the family, and my girls loved him.  Before he got here, Littles said she was going to be shy, but it took her all of 2 minutes to warm up.  Tiny had no problem with him either.  Jess is a big dude; he’s about 6 feet 6 inches tall, but he’s a gentle giant.

The main reason for Jess coming out to Colorado was our tickets to the UW/CU game.  We had planned this a while back and we weren’t disappointed.  It was our first visit to Folsom Field and we were impressed.  The stadium was great, the atmosphere was great, the home fans were great too.

When you walk into a home stadium wearing visiting colors, you never know what to expect, but CU fans were sweethearts.  They were talkative and weren’t your typical jerks you could run into at other venues.  It didn’t hurt there were about 10,000 Husky fans at the game either.  As Jess said, “Dawgs travel well.”  Indeed they do.

Before the game we hit up a bar called “The Lazy Dog.”  We walked in expecting to be in the minority, but the opposite was true; the place was filled with purple.  We might as well have been on University Ave.  “Whose house? Dawgs house!” rang out throughout the bar, Dawg fans were barking everywhere.  At one point, Jess said, “I’d be embarrassed if I were Colorado fans.”  True statement.  We had a couple of drinks and headed to the stadium.

We were a little nervous about the weather.  On the drive from Denver to Boulder, it was pouring down rain the whole way.  The weather in Colorado had turned from summer to fall in the span of 12 hours.  The day before Jess got here, it was 85 degrees and sunny.  The day he got here, it was 50 degrees and raining.  I said to Jess, “You came all the way to Colorado to see a game played in Seattle weather.”  We had our rain gear with us, so we were ready for whatever came our way.  Luckily, it only drizzled during the game and it made us feel right at home.  We walked into the stadium, found our seats among a sea of purple, 20 rows up from the field, at about the 10 yard line.

The game didn’t start well.  CU dinked and dunked their way down the field for a 75 yard touchdown drive on their opening possession, and they made it look easy.  That would be the only TD the Buffs would score.  UW’s offense got off to a slow start, but they took a 10-7 lead into the half.  The Huskies took over in the second half, and just like 2016’s Pac-12 Championship game, Washington outscored the Buffs 27-3 in the 3rd and 4th quarters.  Washington broke the game open on a 43 yard TD pass from Jake Browning to Quinten Pounds and a pick-6 by Myles Bryant.  The running game, led by Myles Gaskin’s 202 yards salted away the win.  Final score, Washington 37, Colorado 10.   We were happy Dawgs!

The next day, we traded our purple and gold for Seahawks blue and bright green.  Since Denver played the early game, the Hawks were on TV for the afternoon game, so we got to watch it from the comfy confines of my basement.  Needless to say, we were disappointed when Seattle lost to Tennessee.

Regardless, it was a great weekend of football with a great friend.

Great friends are hard to come by.  I’ve known Jess since the 6th grade and we were friends throughout high school.  He was also my college roommate.  He’s one of only a few friends from high school I still talk to.  When I say “talk to,” I mean actually picking up the phone and calling, not just keeping in touch on social media.  We don’t talk every day, or even every month, but we’ll text back and forth during Mariners and Seahawks games and he’s one of the first people I’ll call if I ever have big news or if I’m ever going to be in town.

Our friendship is easy, like a good friendship should be.  We’re both laid back dudes, but Jess is probably the most laid back person I’ve ever met.  But that’s the thing, we both enjoy hanging out and shooting the breeze.  We’ll bust each other’s chops and BS about the past.  We’ve been through a lot together.  We’ve seen each other go through some things.  We’ve done everything from seeing “Titanic” in the theater, to storming the field in the Kingdome during the Mariners magical season of 1995, to driving cross-country.  We’ll listen to some Master P, The Proclaimers, Our Lady Peace, or Matchbox 20 and reminisce about funny stories.  We’ll quote 20-year-old movies like we saw them yesterday.  No matter how long it has been since I’ve talked to him, we pick up right where we left off.  We don’t need to solve world problems, or talk about politics.  We’ll have heavier conversations, but they’re usually about stuff that’s going on in our lives; the stuff that matters to friends.

And that’s what this weekend was about, hanging out and having a good time with a great friend, just like we’ve been doing for the last 25 years.  I’ll see you soon, pal, and we’re doing this again in 2019.  Go Dawgs!

 

 

 

(I’m not listening to anything this time)

I just got back from a run.  I had to do it, but the reason why was stupid.  I’ll explain.

When I started my blog, “Dad vs. Human” the point was to document the happenings of my life.  There are so many memories that have happened to me which I have forgotten. Have you ever had a conversation with an old friend and they bring up some ridiculous story and you were like, “Wow!  I forgot about that?”  That’s why I started this blog.  I don’t want to forget, and that’s the purpose for DVH.  It is never my intention for this to read as some sort of a “how to” guide for being a dad or a human.  I’m not great enough at either of them to be giving advice.  It is strictly so I won’t forget things and I don’t want to forget today.

With that said, I was a crappy parent today.  It was the start of the NFL season, and both of my teams, yes both (the Seahawks and Giants) were playing on TV.  I’m a fan of both because I lived in New York until I was 6 and then we moved to Washington.  I stayed a Giants fan after we moved, but living in Washington gave me a soft spot for the Seahawks as well.  I cheer for both.  Sue me.  Anyway, they were both playing today, the Seahawks at 2:25pm, and the Giants on the Sunday Nighter.  Living in Denver, it’s rare I get to see them both play in the same week.

The snag was the wife had to leave for a baby shower at 3:30pm, so I’d have to be super-fan #99 and dad at the same time.   After we got home from church, Tiny went down for her nap and Littles had her quiet time, so I got to watch the first quarter and a half of the Seahawks game by myself.  When the kids both got up, the wife played with them until it was time for her to leave, which took me to about halftime.  The kids came downstairs to watch football with me and to play, but Littles thought football was “so boring” so the wife and I decided she could watch a couple of shows on the iPad and I could entertain Tiny.

Normally, this would have been a decent plan, especially if the Seahawks are playing well.  I’m usually in a good mood and I don’t need to pay too much attention to it.  Today, the Seahawks didn’t play well at all.  This lead me to focus on the game more than I normally would and shifted my mood.  I know, it’s dumb, but sometimes I can take my sports a little too seriously.

We had been in the basement for about an hour or so.  Littles was happily watching her tablet, but Tiny was not happy.  She was whining and crying.  I wasn’t paying enough attention to her because I was watching the game and texting some friends about how bad it was.  Plus, I could just tell we had been in the basement too long.  So, we went upstairs so she could roam around the house and play in her room.  Littles was still happily watching her iPad.  By the end of the third quarter, the Seahawks looked like garbage.  They couldn’t block anyone, they couldn’t score, the defense looked tired, and I knew they weren’t coming back to win.  I was in a bad mood.

Then, it happened.  The iPad Littles was watching, went blank.  The battery had died after an hour and a half of watching shows.  I tried to explain to her the tablet would come back on, but we had to charge it for a little bit before that would happen.  Her response was a whiney, “I can’t wait soooooo long.”  I plugged in the iPad, but it wasn’t going to come on right away.  When I told her that, she had a meltdown.  Handling meltdowns usually isn’t that big of a deal, but since I was in a bad mood because of the Seahawks, my response was sharp and stern.  I said, “Listen, you’ve been watching the iPad all afternoon and you’ve already watched too many shows (if we let her watch it at all we let her watch 1 or 2 at the most).  If you can’t wait for a few minutes until it comes back on, we probably shouldn’t watch it at all anymore.”  As you could guess, that just made it worse.  We entered the second phase of the meltdown.  She started yelling at me to get the iPad and I told her if she kept yelling at me, she wasn’t going to get the iPad at all and she was going to get a timeout.  That didn’t help either.  Way to go dad. Ugh.

Meanwhile, Tiny was still walking around, but she wasn’t happy at all and was whining and crying about everything.  So, I had two kids who were whining and crying and I was in a bad mood about the Seahawks.  Finally, I turned the TV off and I said, “Okay, everyone outside!  We’ve been inside way too long, we’re all crabby, and we just need to go outside and jump on the trampoline.”  Tiny was all about it judging by her grunting and pointing to the door, but Littles was still fuming about the iPad.  I said to her, “Fine, you stay in here, and Tiny and I will go jump on the trampoline.”  Littles threw another fit as I carried Tiny out the back door.

After about 5 minutes of jumping on the trampoline with Tiny, Littles knocked on the back sliding door and waved.  I waved for her to come outside so she did, her head hanging a little bit.  We talked.  I apologized for snapping at her.  I told her it wasn’t her fault and dad was in a bad mood because of a dumb football game.  I could tell she understood that I was saying sorry, but I knew she couldn’t understand the reason being a football game.  Looking back, I can’t really understand it either.  I should have apologized to her for being a crappy parent and putting an iPad in front of her for an hour and a half while I watched football.  Anyway, she apologized for yelling at me and acting like a fool (my words, not hers).  We hugged and had a fun hour playing outside and the fresh air.  Then we came back inside and ate dinner and did our bedtime routines.  Everything was smooth.

The kids were in bed.  It was 7:30pm.  The Giants game started at 6 and I had wisely set my DVR to record it.  The Giants were playing like garbage too.  I was in a bad mood all over again.  The wife came home and we talked about a couple of things, then she went downstairs to talk to a girl we have living in our basement very temporarily.  I watched more of the game and it didn’t get any better.  I was feeling restless because of my bad mood, but I didn’t want to do anything.  Finally, I convinced myself to get changed and go for a run.  I went downstairs to give the wife the monitor and I said to her, “I’m in a bad mood so I’m going for a run.”  She said, “How did you teams do today?”  I replied, “They both played like crap.”  She said, “That’s why you’re in a bad mood.  Have fun on your run.”

After I got back, I felt great.  I knew I would.  The bad mood was gone and the “stress” was gone.  I sent a text to one of my good friends, and fellow Hawks fan, I was texting earlier in the day.  We started texting about the game and some other things.  Earlier in the day, around the end of the 3rd quarter of the Seahawks game, he told me he was fed up and was going to clean his garage.  I laughed and said I’d join him.  When I texted him after my run, this was our exchange:

I’ll admit, there are some “lol’s” in there because it’s uncomfortable for me to admit some of those things, but, I know they’re true.  My parenting took a back seat today and I let a sports team put me in a bad mood.  The second part I think is normal; I’m allowed to be disappointed in something like that, but the first part shouldn’t happen.  I owe my kids more than that.  The deserved my attention, my time, and their father.  I didn’t give them that today.  That’s why I went on my run.  Sure, I might have been frustrated at the games, but I think I was more frustrated at my parenting.  I’m not perfect, but I’ll learn from that and move on.

With that said, I might catch a few minutes of a live game here and there, but I’m going to DVR the games and watch them after the kids go to bed.  That will probably require me to go radio silent on Sundays, but if I’m being honest with myself, I should probably be doing that anyway.  Hopefully my next run will be for a different reason.

Sorry, Littles and Tiny.  I’ll be better next Sunday.

 

(Listening to “Close Enough” by Brett Young)

I bought a truck a couple of days ago.  I had no idea the purchase would come with a touching lesson about the Vietnam War.

The wife and I have purchased a lot of cars over the years because of the Dave Ramsey plan.  Back in 2009 I blew the motor in my Audi while driving to Breckenridge.  The repair tapped out our meager newlywed savings and we quickly realized that we could “afford” the payments, but we really couldn’t afford the cars.  So, we sold both of our newer cars, bought old and reliable cars that wouldn’t require payments, and began “debt snowballing.”  It took about 20 months, but by the end, we had no car payments, no student loan payments, and no debt.  From 2009 to 2013, the wife drove a 1998 Honda Civic, I drove a 1994 Jeep Wrangler.  Both of them weren’t much to look at, but they got us from point A to point B and allowed us to start saving $300 a month in a car fund.

We eventually bought a house and had a kid on the way, so we decided to update the wife’s car.  We bought a 2003 Honda CR-V.  Then I upgraded to a 2000 Jeep Wrangler.  We were blessed with another bundle of joy, so we bought a 2007 Honda Pilot and said goodbye to the Civic and the Jeep.  After some convincing, we recently bought a 2002 Ford Ranger.

All of the cars above, except for the Civic, have one thing in common.  They all went to our mechanic, John, before we purchased them.  The Civic didn’t and on the way home from the corner lot dealer, the check engine light came on.  It needed a new transmission.  The dealer told us it was our problem now.  The wife drove it for a year with a slipping transmission.  It got to the point where she had to manually shift the automatic through the gears.  One day, she called and said, “I can only get it in second gear.”  I told her, “It’s time.”  It was a $3200 lesson.

John is the best.  He’s an honest mechanic.  He treats our cars as if they were his own.  His favorite phrase is, “If it were mine, I would do…”  He has never steered us wrong.  I found him shortly after the wife and I moved to Denver.  Something had gone wrong with one of our cars and we needed a mechanic.  I found John in the yellow pages.  I looked him up online and other patrons had raved about his customer service.  We have been taking our cars to him ever since.  He gives us great deals, and we make sure to get him and his crew Christmas gifts or buy them the occasional lunch.  I’ll wait at his shop for a repair to be done.  We’ll shoot the breeze about baseball and pretty much anything else.  He always calls me “sir” and I call him the same.  John isn’t just a good mechanic, he’s a great person and so are the two guys he employs.

A couple of days ago, I went to go look at the Ford Ranger I was interested in purchasing.  The seller was a man named Rick.  He had recently retired and was looking to upgrade his vehicle.  He bought the Ranger with 11 miles on it 15 years ago.  It now had just more than 94,000.  The vehicle was well taken care of and the motor purred like a kitten.  I wanted to make a deal right then and there.  I called the wife and told her this was the one and wanted to make an offer.  She said, “Well, we have to take it by John first.”  In my head I was thinking, “Oh man.  That’s just going to take more time,” but I knew she was right.  We had been burned before.  I asked Rick if we could take it to my mechanic and he agreed, so I set up an appointment for the next day.  I am so glad I made that appointment, not because I knew I was buying a good truck, but because of the interaction between two veterans I would be privileged to witness.  I come from a military family and both of my parents served.  My mom was a First Lieutenant in the Air Force and my dad retired as a Captain in the Army.  Both are proud of their service, and I am deeply proud of them for their service; which made the interaction I was going to see even more special.

I met Rick in the morning and we went to John’s.  Rick was wearing a Vietnam Veterans hat.  He had been in the Navy during that time.  In previous conversations with John, I knew he had served in the Air Force in Vietnam as well.  He is very proud of his service to his country, as he should be.  We pulled up and John immediately noticed Rick’s hat.  As John surveyed the truck, they began to talk about their tours in Vietnam.  They told each other where they served and what years they were there, but they weren’t talking like they had just met each other.  They were talking like they had known each other their whole lives.  They confided in each other about how they don’t really talk about their time over there with anyone else because it’s too painful and they lost too many friends.  They just had this unspoken connection between them.  I could only imagine as a stood there and listened.  These two men, more than 50 years removed from their separate situations and experiences, shared this unique bond of brotherhood.

John and I went for a test drive in the Ranger.  He listened to the motor.  He checked to make sure the alignment was correct.  He checked the acceleration, the braking, and the turning.  He said everything checked out fine, just as I had suspected.  He told me if I didn’t buy this truck, he would.  We pulled back into the shop and I got out and told Rick we had a deal.  I paid John, thanked him for his time, and shook his hand as I always do.  Rick and John both shook hands, then Rick asked for John’s business card.  John went into his office to grab a card, walked back out, handed it to Rick, and they shook hands again.  Hands clenched, John looked Rick dead in the eye and said in the most sincere tone, “Welcome home, brother,” and Rick replied in the exact same manner, “Welcome home to you too, brother.”  I nearly teared up.  I think they almost did too.

Rick and I got into the truck.  He looked at the business card and said what I already knew.  Rick said, “He’s a good man.”  I replied, “Yes he is.  I trust him and that’s why I wanted him to see the truck.  Thanks for understanding.”  Rick replied, “No problem at all.  I’m glad I met him.  I’ll be giving him a call.  It’s always good to help a brother out.”

It had been 56 years since either of them had stepped foot in Vietnam.  Judging by the conversation they had, it seemed like it had only been two weeks.  I could see it on their faces; memories from half a lifetime ago were as fresh as the day they took place.  I can’t possibly imagine what they went through, but because of my little truck, I caught a glimpse.  Thank you, sirs…for everything.

(Listening to “Narcolepsy” by Third Eye Blind)

The wife and I both Labor Day off, so with the temperature forecasted to be in the 90’s, we decided to take the kids to the beach!  Finding a beach in Colorado is difficult, but we found one at the Aurora Reservoir and it’s a great time.

I grew up in the Pacific Northwest and one of the things I miss most about living in Denver is the water.  In Washington, water seemed to be everywhere.  From where I lived, it was a 20 minute drive to Birch Bay, it was a 25 minute drive to where some of my friends lived on Lake Whatcom, and a lot of water also fell from the sky.  I’ve spent my fair share of time near water and I loved it.

Colorado is different.  Obviously, it’s land locked, so going to the ocean is out of the question, and there aren’t a lot of lakes here either, save for a few reservoirs.  The wife had been to the Aurora Reservoir a few weeks ago and I had never been, so when we were trying to think of something to do for Labor Day, we said, “Let’s go to the beach!”  So, the wife made us lunches, packed the cooler, we grabbed our beach gear, and off we went! As it turns out, it’s a really cool place and $10 well spent.

From our house, it takes about 30 minutes to get to the Aurora Reservoir Recreation Area.  Once we got there, it felt like we were 4 hours from home.  There was a big body of water and a nice sandy beach.  The place was busy due to the holiday.  Sun canopies were everywhere, grills were going, lifeguards were on duty, people were either in the water or lying on their beach towels soaking in the rays.  It had a 1950’s feel to it, except the bathing suits were different.

It was a great time and a great little way to escape the city without having to go too far.  I know we’ll be going back, and we’ll probably be taking some people with us.  Anyway, here are some pictures from our time at the beach!

The great thing about going outside and spending time in the sun is the kids were beat.  When we got home, Tiny took a nap, I mowed the lawn, and the wife took Littles to get pedicures.

If you’re ever trying to think of something fun to do, make sure to keep the Aurora Reservoir in mind.  You can’t beat a day at the beach, even if the beach is in Colorado!

 

 

 

 

(I’m listening to Johnny Cash tonight)

I bought the wife Lady Antebellum tickets for our anniversary.  I hired a sitter for our kids and everything.  It was an official date.  This fit right along with our recent decision to start buying experiences instead of stuff.

The wife and I don’t go to many concerts together.  We like to, but we just don’t.  There are a few reasons why.  It’s hard for us to find a show we both want to attend, which would justify buying tickets and springing for a babysitter.  That could be a $200 night out and if one of us isn’t really “into it,” then it doesn’t make sense to us to spend the money.  When that happens, the other person is like, “Why don’t you just go with a friend and I’ll stay home with the kids.”

We have a hard time finding shows to go to because our tastes in music are a bit different.  I’m a little older than the wife.  The age gap doesn’t make much of a difference for anything else in life, except for the fact that I could be a U.S. Senator or president and she couldn’t, but it actually does play a role in our music preferences.  My years of high school were 1992-1996, which were great years for almost any genre.  Alternative Rock was getting into full swing and had fully taken over from the hair-metal days, R&B and Hip-Hop were mainstream, rap became popular with everyone in urban areas to suburbia, country music was transforming from its twangy sound into a more youthful tone, and some 80’s bands were still making some new albums.  Heck, even pop music was catchy!  Musically, it was a great time to be in the prime of my youth.  The wife, she was still a kid during those years, so when I say, “Oh! (Fill in the name of the 90’s band) is coming to Denver, do you want to go?”  The answer that’s most common is, “I’ve heard of them.  I think my brother used to really like them.”  That means, “I’ll go if you want me to, but feel free to go by yourself or with a friend.”  I’ll say that to the wife too.  During the wife’s formative years, I had already been set in my musical ways.  That doesn’t mean I didn’t or wouldn’t listen to new music, but I just didn’t really get into the musicians that were popular during her time.  We have some crossover; for example, we went to a Coldplay show together a while back, and we’ve seen Counting Crows together, but, finding something we both like and can justify spending the money on can be tricky.

This bring us to Lady Antebellum.  The wife calls them “Lady A.”  I don’t know them well enough to call them that.  It’s kind of like when you barely know someone and they have a nickname, but you call them by their real name because you feel like you don’t know them well enough to call them by their nickname because it would be weird.  I’ll still call them “Lady A” because it’s shorter to type, but just know I feel weird about it.  Anyway, the wife has always wanted to see Lady A and she had dropped a couple of hints, so I decided to get the tickets and surprise her for our anniversary.  The wife likes country music.  Me, it’s not my first choice unless I’m driving through Wyoming, Montana, or South Dakota.  I have about 50 country songs in my iTunes catalog, and when you take out Johnny Cash, that number dwindles to about 25.  Those 25 are in there mostly because of nostalgic reasons; they remind me of old friends I went to high school with and they listened to it, so I sort of like those songs.

I want to back up a bit.  I like country music, I just don’t like the “new country” music.  I can listen to Johnny Cash, Kenny Rogers, Conway Twitty, Waylon Jennings, or any “twangy” country with a slide guitar in it, all day.  Back in 1992-1996, country music began getting younger and this “new country” music started coming out.  The country music stations were even branding themselves as “the new country music station.”  It had more of a pop sound to it, and to me, it just sounded like they were trying too hard to cater to the younger crowd.  It doesn’t mean it was bad, in fact, a lot of it was very good, it just didn’t suit my fancy.  Because of that, I just didn’t get into it.  (A sidenote: In the not too distant past, one of my friends explained to me that Garth Brooks was never a part of Brooks and Dunn.  I thought I knew that, but if I was on “Who Wants to Be A Millionaire” and that was the million dollar question, I would have had to phone a friend just to be 100% sure.)  Anyway, country music continues to get more hip and blur the lines.  Some musicians who began their careers in country are now pop musicians.  If I go to a country show, I expect belt buckles, boots, cowboy hats, and American flags, not skinny jeans and tennis shoes.  Maybe that’s just me.

So now you have an idea of where my head was at buying Lady A tickets.  The two, most important reasons I purchased the tickets was that I knew the wife would love them and I was buying an experience for us, instead of a some stuff for her.  Needless to say, we had a blast.

We saw the show at an outdoor venue called “Fiddler’s Green.”  It was a perfect night to be outdoors.  We spread out our blanket in the GA section and took our seats on the grassy hill.  Brett Young was the opener and I really enjoyed his set.  He’s an up-and-comer in the country music scene and you could tell it was a thrill for him to share the stage with Lady A.  I liked his whole set and will probably purchase his CD.  I like to support new artists.

Kelsea Ballerini was the second act, and needless to say, we lost a little interest.  After her first song, the wife said, “She’s trying to be Carrie Underwood.  She’s actually like a cross between Brittney Spears and Carrie, except not as good.” So, we started to people watch.  We’d try to guess if people were on dates, or how hard people tried to put together their wardrobe for a country show.  We watched the people in front of us who had their new baby and a 4-year-old at the show and playfully said to each other, “I’m glad we got a sitter.”  We talked to the mom behind us who had brought her 8 and 10-year-old daughters to the show and how that was going to be us someday.  We just took time to be ourselves, spend time together, and celebrate our anniversary.  Keep in mind, Kelsea Ballerini was still on stage.  She did an acoustic version of “Closer” by The Chainsmokers (which further supported my theory of country music become more pop).  We started to get itchy to see Lady A, but the second set never seemed to end.  Just when we thought she was wrapping up, she’d introduce another song.  She was talented, but just wasn’t our cup of tea, I guess.

Finally, the lights went out and Lady A came on stage.  Everyone stood up.  The wife got excited.  Lady A is very talented.  They have great voices, one of the band members can play like 15 instruments, and they are very entertaining.  I knew exactly 4 of the songs they played, 5 if you count the cover of Beyonce’s “Crazy In Love,” but it was a great show.  Like true parents who had a sitter, we left a couple of songs early to beat the traffic because we had an early morning ahead of us.  The wife had a medial procedure scheduled for the next morning.

Lady A didn’t disappoint, and the wife and I shared a great experience together.  I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a night than with the woman I promised do this stuff with 9 years ago.  Happy Anniversary, honey!  I hope you enjoy Our Lady Peace as much as I enjoyed Lady A!