32 seconds. I settled in to the back bedroom, after letting my wife know that I was out of commission for a couple hours, and 32 seconds later I reappeared. I ran through the house screaming. My little boy chased me, screaming as well. My little girl was sitting on the couch coloring. Once I returned to the bedroom, my little girl asked Leslie what was wrong with me. After Leslie told her what I was watching, she simply said “Boys….I just don’t understand them.”
It was an hour and a half later before I reappeared again. With three kids, I usually don’t get time like this, but this time I did. After an hour and a half, I let out a loud sigh of aggravation. This was completely ignored by everyone. About 4 minutes later, my wife again heard clapping and cheering. Ten more minutes of silence, then there were a couple of claps of relief and I returned to the living room.
We enjoyed the rest of our night together. The kids took baths and watched their bedtime cartoon before being tucked in. Once they went down, my wife and I picked up around the house a bit before settling in and catching up on a little TV ourselves before turning in for the night.
Nobody asked because they knew. The final was U.S. 2-Ghana 1. This is World Cup Soccer at my house…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
And my little girl still doesn’t understand boys. And I’m okay with that, because though she doesn’t know it yet, I know that she never really will.