I’m wearing headphones. I have a glass of Maker’s halfway in me and a day of football behind me. Thing 2 is asleep and Thing 1 is knee-deep in a bowl of ice cream and the commandeering of the HD set to watch Krypto the Superdog which we had to TiVo earlier so I could watch the Steelers run a few drills against the Browns. My wife is reading a book and drinking port.
I’ve listened to such much Wilco I want to buy a Jetta.
This is how a Sunday should end.
It starts with the paper and children laughing, the taste of freshly ground coffee and the sounds of Monk playing notes that no one else knew existed. In between there is football and yard work.
I love a good Sunday.