My daddy wore this to Temple Square. I need to send a copy of this to the whole stake :) My dad was an awesome athlete. He did it all track, baseball (even though he hated it) and football. I remember as a little girl thinking he could run like the freaking wind. We'd play baseball in our side yard and you could never get him out. He'd either hit the ball deep into the "wooshes" (the woods, for all you non-rednecks) or he'd sprint around the bases before we could even blink. He did it all in his coveralls and boots :) Fast forward to me being 21- and running consistently for exercise- and he could still outrun me dang it! He was 51.
Today Ezra put Percy's foot in his mouth. Percy walks over his own poo all day long. This was after we got home from the farm -where he poked a baby bunny in the eye and pulled out a handful of its fur. That was after I let the cage door slam onto the bunny's head. Then after that- Ezra's mouth caught on fire when I gave him some chicken I had seasoned with cayenne pepper. I really shouldn't be let loose around small animals and children.
My dad's athletic ability didn't fall far from the tree. In a 3rd grade track and field event I got 3rd place in a sit-up competition (can you sense the sarcasm? I was actually pretty proud of myself, which further drives home my point) Then in the 200 meter sprint? (is that a race?) I got 7th out of 8. The girl that came in eighth was from my same school- I blame the school, wouldn't you?
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