VIP's for a day

Today my kind and generous colleague at work gave Ed and me a pair of tickets to see the Oakland A's play the Boston Red Sox tonight. The seats were in the VIP section 5 rows behind home plate and included special parking and all of the free food we wanted. By the seventh inning, Ed had eaten a bowl of Clam Chowder, a plate of fish & chips, a Dr. Pepper, 2/3 of a plate of Nachos, a Stadium Dog, and Hot Chocolate with whipped cream. He also worked his way through half of the bag of peanuts that was on the seats when we arrived. I didn't try to stop him from eating all of that, but being the attentive wife that I am, I did hand him the empty peanut bag in the ninth inning when he started to hold his stomach and mentioned the possibility of throwing up.

The A's lost pretty convincingly. They were down 0-7 after the third or fourth inning. But we were entertained for most of the game by the girl in front of us who was constantly screaming the name of the player in the on-deck circle, which was only 10 or 15 feet from us, to see if they would look over. None of them ever did.

She's Not Fast

Inspired by the opening day of the Tour de France, Ed and I went on a bike ride. As he drug me up the umpteenth really steep hill, we passed a little boy and his mom. Ed went by first and the little boy yelled back to his mom:

"Did you see that guy riding his bike? He was going fast. That's what I want us to do."

A minute or so later, I rode by and he yelled back

"She's not going fast."

Thanks for the update, kid.