"Daddy wants to watch his special baseball game."

At the risk of turning this blog into a Phillies blog, let me continue with my exuberance over the fact that our hometown club is headed to the playoffs. The last time this happened, I was drinking Red Dog in Steve Berger's basement.

When they clinched this time, I was drinking water and nervously eating sunflower seeds while Vincent played with puzzles and Rose tried to help Peter through another bout with his unborn teeth. The moment Myers got the 3rd out and Harry Kalas almost erupted into tears, I yelled something unintelligible and kissed the other three very patient members of my family. Vincent followed suit and started yelling "YAAAY PHILLEEEEEZ" and I think Peter even starting screaming as well. His may have been teeth-related, but we'll just say it was his own little "M.V.P." chant for his idol, Jimmy Rollins. I know - he's only 5 months old and already has an idol. Weird. I told Rose that I should've popped open a beer and sprayed it all over the room but that probably would've been inappropriate.

Still - I feel a little bad that the boys had to endure me watching an entire game without the interruption of The Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins, Barney Goes to the Zoo or Little Bear. I appreciate it, fellas. Take solace in the fact that the games in the Division Series are either at 3pm or 10pm. You can also feel good that your Daddy's complaining days are over.

Go Phils.