Slow Week

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I think that the weeks move slowly in the spring. We’re all kind of waiting for the weather to break, and this year it’s even worse.

Because we’ve been locked up for a year.

Yet, everything appears to be ready for a blast-off.

Have you noticed all the cars on the road? 

All the stores packed?

“This is going to be torture,” Sam said. “Waiting for Friday.”

There is no doubt about what are the most important days in Sam’s calendar year.

No one loves the NCAA and March Madness more than Sam, and it has been that way all of my life because my brother Jeff was the exact same way.

I hate the fact that Sam and Jeff didn’t get a chance to compare notes.

Anyway:

“Friday and Saturday mean more to me than my birthday or Christmas.”

Then Sam proceeded to talk to me for a half an hour about who he thought was going to win it.

He’s taking a personal day for Saturday.

“Gotta do it!”

As for me, I feel the slow movement of time as well.

I want a new driver, but I’m waiting until I’m a little closer to being able to hit it.

If I buy it this week, I’m going to lose my mind knowing that it’s just sitting in my bag.

We turned the clocks ahead an hour last night.

If Sam had his way we’d turn it ahead 6 days.

I’d go about 6 weeks if I could...

...Or at least to the start of baseball season.

For the record, I’m not a fan of Daylight Savings Time - wish we could stop doing that...

...but it only mattered when the boys were really young.

Losing that hour hurt a lot back then...

...now I just cat nap if I have to.

And dream of standing at the first tee.

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