If We Lost, Why Do I Feel Like We Won?

Not a win this weekend, but I am surprisingly not mad about it.  Maybe I'm mellowing.  Maybe the presence of these two made me appreciate the good things that happened Saturday.

This was Harry's first real game.  He made it to G-Day this year, but that is not the tactical nightmare that the SEC home opener can be...and that's before you add in a five year old and a two year old.  That said, they were both fantastic.

Harry ran around the tailgate for most of the day with a Georgia helmet on.  He looked remarkably like AJ wearing his #8.  I think we've done him a disservice by naming him "Blindside" at this young age.  His skill set is improving.

Ellie somehow made it onto the Chi Phi lawn.  After I told her "no."  After I informed her that five year olds do not attend band parties.  After she sobbed on the tailgate of Mr. Berta's truck for ten minutes because mommy wouldn't let her go meet Lil' P-Nut.  "Who is Lil' P-Nut" you might ask; to which I would respond, "not really sure, I'm guessing the seven year old protege of Lil' Wayne, so clearly you understand my trepidation." 

Despite my mandate, she got there.  She came back.  She said, "umm, mommy, that wasn't as cool as I thought it would be;" to which I responded, "Chi Phi never is baby... it never is."

At the game Ellie was concerned with two things, the score and cotton candy.  We spent the day doing scoreboard math:  "they've got 28 we've got 20 we have GOT to score eight more points, wait we need nine more points, is that right, ok."  The agony she felt when they went ahead for good was epic and very charming.  She wanted to know why we let them do that.  I didn't have a good answer for her other than "Murray doesn't know when to take a sack."  That satisfied her.

The cotton candy hunt took Wes on a thirty minute scenic tour of the stadium.  Five minutes after they returned, the cotton candy vendor showed up next to us.  Timing is everything...unless you're Mike Bobo.  HEY-O.

Harry learned the cadence to "Goooooooooooooooo DAWGS!  Sic Em! OOOO OOOOO OOOOO OOOOO," and said it over and over and over and over.  He smacked all of our seat mates in the their heads, necks and backs with his pom pom over and over and over.  And he cheered at the right times over and over and over.  He said "wook, mama (or daddy) putball," several times, and he managed to stay awake, nap free, after a hard working tailgate, for the entire game with nary a tear.  Troopers--both of them.  Once back in the car, I could hear him whispering "sic em ooo ooo ooo ooo."  Never give up!

The Dawgs played better than I expected but made several bone headed mistakes that cost us the game.  They'll figure it out and we'll all simmer down and the boys will win some football games.  If not, the offseason will be interesting.  But that said, Saturday was one of those days that is burned into my memory.  My sweet babies learning to call the Dawgs, my ever patient and flexible husband and 92,000 of our closest friends.  Go Dawgs!

P.S.  Ellie may be going again next week.  She told us she doesn't want to go to anymore "big games."  They take too long and it's hard to find cotton candy.  Word.  She says she likes the "little games."  Coastal Carolina sounds perfect.  May the cotton candy be plentiful and the game be a yawner!  I'll have dinner ready when they get home.