Hawaii Five-0

It's Saturday night.  And being the swinging bachelor that I am, I'm at home.  The boys are in bed and asleep.  It was a good day.  The plan initially was to meet up at Grandma and Grandpa's house to watch BSU trounce Hawai'i (please note the proper spelling...I have it on good authority that it is "Hawai'i" and not "Hawaii."  The apostrophe between last two letters was the result of Hawai'i's state legislature taking action to make it clear to the world that the name of their beautiful state was pronounced huh-wahy-ee, and NOT tuh-hee-tee.)

Anyhoo...The plan was to watch Bois'e State (note the new spelling) trounce Tahiti.  I mean Hawai'i.  So we loaded up and went to Grandma and Grandpa's.  Two of my sisters and their children showed up, Grandpa had the grill going, so all in all, it was a party in the making.  


Then, something occurred to me.  The game was going to be broadcast on ESPNU, but my parents didn't have ESPNU.  That was when I knew something was terribly, terribly wrong and that my parents didn't intend for us to leave alive.  


I rushed to the door and tried to open it, but it was too late.  The doors were locked from the outside.  We were trapped.  We pounded on the doors.  We screamed.  Grandma and Grandpa just laughed maniacally and said that nobody could hear our pitiful screams, because Grandpa had soundproofed the walls.  "It's delightful to have you FOR dinner," Grandma cackled as she sharpened her butcher knife.


Okay, I made up the last two paragraphs.  I'm sure it's going to make my mom very angry because she hates it when I portray her as a cannibal who eats her own children.  She likes to be portrayed in a more "positive" light.  It's called literary license, ma!  The truth of the matter, however, is that my parents had a beautiful assortment of food--fruits, veggies, bratwursts, you name it.


Now where was I before taking that detour down macabre lane?  Oh yeah, no ESPNU at my parents' house.  Luckily, my sister Mollie has ESPNU at her house.  So she said, "Hey y'all, let's head down yonder t'my place.  I got ESPNU fer sher."  That's not really how she talks, but I have a lousy ear for dialog.   


Since the grill was already going, we ate before caravaning to Mollie's house, where we caught the rest of the game.  The cousins got to play with each other, and there was food and laughter.  Among the adults, there was also laughter, as well as some tears, some cross words, a few punches thrown, more laughter, and a brief intervention by law enforcement.  In other words, it was a typical family get together.

Now, at home, I wonder what the get togethers will be like when my kids are grown. Looking at my boys, asleep, I'm amazed at how much they've already grown.  I kiss each of them on the cheek and whisper to them that I love them.  In my mind's eye, they are newborn babies.  It seems like yesterday that I held them, fed them bottles, and rocked them at night, singing:

                              Rock-a-bye, Say goodnight

                              Daddy loves you, Rock-a-bye.

Charlie is the only one who'll let me sing that to him anymore.  Jackson and Ethan are "big boys" now and don't want me to sing baby songs to them.  Soon (too soon), Charlie won't let me sing it to him, either.  But looking at my sleeping boys tonight, no matter what, they will always be my babies.

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