Monday night my oldest daughter, Ragan had a soccer game. Now usually this would be a family affair, unless of course I was at home in bed with a migraine. Then my wife would faithfully haul all three kids out to the park for the event herself. Well she had some prior engagements so the duty fell upon my shoulders this time and I willingly accepted.
I work from home and some days for one reason or another it’s just hard to get anything accomplished. Monday seemed to be one of those days. Not only was it one of those days, but two of my employers were asking for deliverables on that morning so by the time Monday evening rolled around I was not in the most patient of moods. My daughter was in her usual… shall I say… “chatty” mode. I think God designed her with a particle accelerator about 2 inches behind her lips. She was asked to get a Gatorade (Public, NYSE: PEP) from the pantry for the game. Of course the drink was not cold, which she pointed out so it was suggested that I put some from the refrigerator that I had premixed into a container for her. I found a suitable thermos, but she wanted to use the large plastic mug that I had pulled out while searching. I was trying to patient so I figured, why not (foreshadowing).

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