A Great Day for Daddy

Being a dad of twins has its challenges. But more than anything, life is double the pleasure most days. Especially one particular day for me a few weeks back.

Anyone that knows me, knows that despite living in toddlerville twice over, I remain faithful to my NFL games. Specifically my Dallas Cowboys games. It's my only tie to sanity. Once a week for 20 weeks (yes, I do include pre-season) I take a mental vacation from it all and scream and yell at my TV. Yelling is like laughter to me. It's healing in a way. This of course is done with soda, popcorn or chips and dip being spewed everywhere at the same time, but still.

I love the Cowboys. I have more shirts with blue stars on than most. I bleed blue.

When the Cowboys score a touchdown, my running around, screaming, and dancing really freaks the girls out. Last year they cried and ran to mommy. This year, they look at me like I am a moron and go back to their tasks (yes, mom has taught them well). I had been trying to get them to join me all summer long. But no such luck. I'd spent hours trying to get them to understand. I spent night upon night with drawings and story telling books to get them to come aboard the Cowboys train. Not a squeak. Not even an effort. I was talking to the hands.

But my two year old girls must have a had a plan. For mine already know how to prepare me for the "Sucker" tattoo which one day will firmly be placed on my forehead. They know what buttons to push to get what they want.

And for me, their biggest gift to daddy occurred literally the week before the NFL season started as I came in from changing with one of my Cowboys t-shirts on and they both pointed at the blue star and screamed "Owwwwboooyyys".

I nearly cried as I gave them the cookie they immediately asked me for after making me melt.