Today, maybe I turned a corner, maybe I’m still in the alley, that remains to be seen. However, this happened today.

My son ate fish and chips at the Irish bar while we watched Mexico vs Camaroon. I did not.
My son ate fish and chips at the Irish bar while we watched Mexico vs Cameroon.
I did NOT eat fish and chips... or anything for that matter. Woe, woe is me.
I did NOT eat fish and chips… or anything for that matter. Woe, woe… is me.

 

It was a rowdy crowd. This is Texas, so Mexico are our arch rivals (in soccer). The bar was full to the gills with supporters. We’re not Cameroon fans, but we’re kinda “whoever-plays-against-Mexico-fans” which any major sports fan totally understands that rivalry thing. So, we didn’t have much to cheer about. But, when it was all said and done, I was pretty proud of my two pints of lemon water. I think I impressed them all, because this happened:

I think they were clearly dazzled by my will power… or maybe it was Oribe Peralta’s goooooooaaaaaaaaaalllllll. Nah, they were cheering for me, I’m pretty sure.

 

 

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