Hail To The Victors Valiant...and Dads Too
So, I kidnapped Zoey and stole her away to the Michigan - Nebraska basketball game and she was BEYOND excited...about five rungs above stoked. We ate hot dogs, and popcorn, and drank buckets of Coca-Cola. Zoey got her hands on about seventy-eight pom-poms, conned her Dad into buying her a plush wolverine, she summarily named Mitch, after Mitch McGary, whom she thought was pretty cool. She danced. She cheered. She tried to sing "Hail to the Victors" but she only knows about half of the words. She freaked out about the band. She got terribly emotional about meeting the cheerleaders. Terribly emotional. She thought the Maize Rage student section was awesome, and she couldn't keep herself from crawling all over her Dad's lap for two hours.
This is what a happy little girl looks like...
It is my full intention to brainwash my daughter into thinking that I'm the greatest human being on the face of the earth, and for her to love me until the day I die. I started by spending as much time with her as I could, then I took it up a notch by being as fun and creative as I could manage, and now I'm at the newest stage in which I buy her love, and take her awesome places so that her Dad is showcased in way cooler light. It's subversive, but I'm way past caring...it's shameless, I know, but worth it in the end. Did you see that face? This Dad has intentions of being a rock star for at least another two decades. If I can somehow arrange a face to face meeting with actual cheerleaders...we're talking rock star until the end of time.