There was so much to remember from Carolina’s 32-29 loss to New England on Sunday. But a couple of things stand out for me:
1. After DeShaun Foster’s 33-yard touchdown scamper, a beautiful run indeed, Susan and I jump up to deliver high-5s, but she misses my hand completely and delivers a slap that knocks the taste out of my mouth and then proceeds to fall on top of me. It’s all about the love, baby.
2. Abby, who for unknown reasons has trouble sleeping and wakes up three times before I climb in bed with her about 3 a.m., slaps me across the face as she finally falls asleep, securing a two-for-two smackdown on good ol’ dad.
Football. It really is a contact sport.