Having spent the weeks following the Phillies' clinch of the Nation League division awaiting the promised playoff tickets and possible World Series tickets, it was only inevitable that one obsession collided into another: my determination to keep a healthy home.
Though O is almost completely recovered, I awoke on Halloween morning sounding a lot like Kathleen Turner circa Romancing the Stone and Joseph awoke that night with a fever and his best Sylvester Stallone impersonation.
What does that mean?
My ticket to Game 4 was given to one of John's cronies while I stayed home curled up with a little man and a cool mist vaporizer.
There's always next year.
I'm 32, a dad, and I am not a douchebag...
6 years ago