Fifty-seven to Six
Breakfast this morning with the Nies clan at Amalia's in O'Wock. What with syrup and hot sauce and jelly and toast and pretend coffee it was one crowded table. But also one fun time. We (Bri primarily) even turned a sour and crabby waitress into a bubbling fountain of friendliness.
After that we went to the Imaginatioin Station playgound, where it was wet, still a bit frosty, and a bit stinky because the breeze was wafting our way from he sewerage treatment plant. But, even so, it too was one fun time.
Later this afternoon, back in Whitewater, we took Pax for his (routine) walk in the Prairie, but that turned out to be a bad idea because the UWW Warhawk football game was still in progress. It was the Warhawks against the Purple Martins, and, redicuously, every time the Warhawks scored a touchdown a cannon volley erupted.
Poor Pax. He prefers a score of three to nothing.