It is a lazy and cold Sunday afternoon. The sound of Saints football (thank you FOX for finally showing a game....) can be heard from NO LESS THAN 3 tv's in the house as well as the required war-whoops and yells.
Daniel walked by on his way outside-- (apparently he did not get the NFL gene) -- and said to me
"Do you think Dad is on drugs?"
"No," I replied, "he just loves his Saints football."
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