Going to Da Brook

Pretty big game for the Mustangs tonight, as they face Wolf Point in a game that could mean the playoffs for either team.

I’m kind of bummed that I will not be at the game, but it is for good reason.

Our darling son has yet to meet his paternal grandfather and uncles.

So in an attempt to kill a few birds with one stone... (meaning taking a vacation and seeing the aforementioned), my wife and I are taking a treacherous 18 hour trip to Chicagoland, more specifically a southwest suburb called Bolingbrook, my hometown.

The local high school football team (the Bolingbrook Raiders) like Malta, is attempting to make the playoffs.

Bolingbrook has had a playoff team for the last several years, and was favored to take state earlier in the year.

They won the Illinois 8A state championship in 2011.

What’s crazy about this year’s team is that I used to watch many of those kids while they were just learning to walk at the church my family and I attended.

I’m not the type to get homesick and never was even in my college years, but I can say that I am looking forward to going home.

I will enjoy it until I hit traffic for the first time in years.

Though I know many in Phillips County think oh no, I’m from Chicago... Lots of shootings there, I always felt safe in my hometown.

In my hometown, I didn’t worry about gangs, drugs or guns.

I’ve seen more guns here.

I grew up with some knuckleheads, but even more quality people that are making something of their lives.

In my hometown kids could join multiple clubs and teams in school, just like it is here... But you have to earn it.

Growing up, I was taught I had to work hard to earn what is mine.

I was never given a car or pickup.

I was brought up to respect my elders, and when adults are talking, do not interrupt them.

Where I’m from, self-entitlement was a joke.

When I was bad, I was disciplined. When I was good, I was praised. I plan on raising my son the same way.

I’m both nervous and excited to visit home.

Nervous because I know a place like Bolingbrook can change a lot in the span of two years.

I even heard that a boy from the high school was in attire that looked like a skirt...

Boys shouldn’t wear skirts.

Chances are he wasn’t Scottish and even if he was, kilts are overrated.

I’m not going to beat that horse, but get the boy a pair of pants. Mercy.

In other news....

PJ rolled over for the first time last week.

Now he won’t stop... I’m afraid this kid may start crawling by the time we get back from Chicagoland.

Then he will start walking within eight months.

I’m also changing up my diet.

Unfortunately for Westside food court, instead of getting my usual two breakfast burritos, I’m only getting one...

I don’t want to be 300 pounds anymore. It was a dream.

Being that big is overrated.

And likely expensive.

Besides, I don’t want to be on the fattest loser. Or Biggest Loser...