When I was growing up, my Dad and I would take pretty regular trips to see the Cubs play in Atlanta, Cincinnati or St. Louis. One glorious time we actually made it to Wrigley Field. I have lots of fond memories of the road trips, filling out the score cards with my dad, and rooting for the Cubbies in “enemy territory” as Dad liked to call it.
Recently, we got to take J along on one of these trips for two games of a Cubs-Reds series at Great American. We drove down on Saturday for the second of a double header. We listened to the first game on the drive up, as it went into more and more extra innings. We were some of the first people at this gate for the night game, and we got to watch the sun go down as it went on.
Ignore J’s silly aversion to taking a normal picture.
We slept, had breakfast, and had just enough time to walk around the river front before the day game on Sunday. J and I have a thing about downtown bridges where if we find one over a river we have to walk across it.
We drove home immediately after, just like Dad and I used to do. Like he did with my brother before me. Like his dad did with him and his brothers, I’m sure. Like I hope J and I will get to do with any kids we may be blessed with.
Alicia Does Things 