When just a baby in utero, Mamma was convinced the child was a girl. She even had the name picked out: Mary Rose. The baby's namesake was planted in the backyard.
When to her great surprise the doctor proclaimed, "It's a Boy!", what Mamma thought was, "Oh no. Hockey."
The doorbell rang the other night around supper time. It was the next door neighbour come to ask if we had any plans that night. It was just me and the Boy; Mamma was working. The neighbour had two tickets to the local major junior hockey game and other plans. The Boy indicated that he'd like to go. The game started at seven o'clock but would end somewhere around ten - way past the Boy's bed-time. I wasn't sure how he'd like it, but agreed that we'd go until he got tired but then come home.
We arrived in time and bought popcorn and Minute Maid orange spicy drink. We sat almost directly behind the visitors net, just eight rows up and the home team players came out of a tunnel just about ten seats to our right. The home team won by a shutout scoring a goal in each of the three periods; the one in the middle stanza came right in front of us. In the third period, the camera guy who during play was down where the players had streamed past, turned around and got a beautiful picture of the Boy which appeared on the giant screen on the score clock for all (including the Boy) to see.
After each period I asked if he was feeling tired, if he wanted to go home.
No way.
The night was a great success.
A couple of days later, the tickets are sitting on the step and I point them out to the Boy wondering if maybe he'd like to put them somewhere as a souvenir of a great night out.
Me: Do you want to keep the tickets?
Boy: Yes! We can use them to see another game!
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