Marshall’s Stay: Friday

In the morning, Collin was being a pest, so we took him down to the softball fields down behind where we live. At the softball field, after we had worn the little guy down with fetch, a group of school children sauntered up to us and to my surprise Marshall began a full-on lecture about the physics of motion, Newton’s first law, and how our human conformation aided us in projecting objects. I snapped a quick photo of Marshall demonstrating how a wider base aids in stability. Honestly, I think it was a little over those girls’ heads.

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Friday night, after I did near-heroic battle with some uncapitalized T-SQL reserve keywords at work, we all went out to shoot pool at one of Fort Collin’s more upscale bars (read: expensive alcohol).

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Don’t mess with Texas!

Marshall and Elissa won two games of cut-throat each, but I certainly drank the most, so who was the real winner (foreshadowing)? I was under the impression there had been three games and that I had won the middle game, but am told this is not so. After that they walked and I staggered over to a great deli where I got a beautiful, medium rare, two-fisted buffalo burger, and a bit more to drink. They got … Elissa got something blurry and Marshall something a little more fuzzy. Of course, as always, the end result was that Marshall got gassy, or he became a Tyrannosaurus, really, who could tell.

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Before they came with the food, I was exploring my camera as if I had never seen it before, and it snapped a picture that looks like it had never scene me before either.

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As it got dark, we went to the park and threw the frisbee disc around. On the way back the Soslands broke into an impromptu smirking contest. I couldn’t decide the winner.

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Once we were safely home and I had consumed two bottles of water, I fell asleep, then woke to a crushing migraine. Followed by ten minutes of standing in the bathroom waiting to throw up, which I did, twice. Elissa was very concerned, thought it was something undercooked. I was pretty sure it was the fact that I had skipped eating that day and the night before (except the buffalo burger, which I left most of in the commode), compounded with too much beer. She wasn’t TOO concerned, though. Even in the midst of a severe migraine which kept me balled up on the foot of the bed in a … ball, she still was cool-headed enough to come in and lecture me at length about how easy it was to put a simple roll of toilet paper on the roll, and did I not understand the process or did I just not love her? Purely by coincidence, this is when I threw up.

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