Especially early mornings following a late night...because the kids are too thrashed to move. We went to a San Francisco Giants game last night and got home close to midnight, so even now, at 9am, not a creature is stirring and for me, it still feels like an early morning. (The teenager is probably stirring. Or rather, his thumbs are probably stirring. But he's quiet and flying under the radar, so I'm not going to mess with that.)
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Giants games: Cold. Loud. Too crowded. Sticky. Cramped seats. Drunk people. Expensive food. Expensive parking. Lots of walking.
But STILL magic, still fun, still captivating. The music, the hits, the runs, the kiss-cam, the entire scene: thrilling.
There were two highlights for me last night. One was watching Romo come in and close a great game (we won!). The other was watching my kids interact with other Giants fans. The fans sitting around us wishing my daughter a happy birthday. Our ticket taker -- an older gentlemen -- asking my 6 year old if she was ready to take the field in case they needed her, and her resounding answer: "YUP!" Another old timer, watching the Lou Seal mascot literally run away from my kids because he was being mobbed by crowds, who spied my 8 year old in her Dale (Disney chipmunk) hat and said to her: "Who needs a seal! We got a chipmunk!" He gave her a high five to "seal" the deal.
It seemed like everywhere we went, in addition to the really obnoxious drunk people, we ran into San Francisco gems, cheerful, happy people who offered charm and good will generously to my children.
When we left the park -- cold, tired, gearing up for a long walk back to our car -- we watched a man perform an impressive drum riff on several upturned plastic buckets, using a crate with empty wine bottles sticking out of it and a metal pan of coins to create contrasting sounds. The cash we dropped in his wind-protected bucket was the best money I spent all night.
I love this city. I love my kids. I love the two together.
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|This entrance. Never. Gets. Old.|
|Pretty psyched to see her seat number |
matches her soccer jersey number.
Oh, and Alex Morgan's too.
|Happened to be at the park on the same night |
as my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew!
|Me, sandwiched between two slices of ham.|
|Waiting for Romo.|
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