Tribal News

The weekend wrap-up:
Canning- yes!
Nephew’s football game- yes!
Friend’s birthday party- yes! From what I remember!
Fish Fry- yes!
Oldest AND youngest in bar fights!
Trips to the emergency room- 1!

The youngest son and his adolescent bride came up for the weekend, Ft. Campbell being only 7 hours away. I am not sure what to make of the teenager. For an 18 year old she sure wants to wear the pants and is very bossy. Being older and wiser, I let Old Sarge wear the pants. Of course, I tell him which ones to wear. At any rate, he was involved in a fight and I never really got the whole story on that one. Oldest son’s was more interesting. We knew the police were going to be out in force, so everyone that was going out on Saturday night made arrangements to get a ride or walk home. Apparently, my nagging sunk in because Oldest walks home from the party. Breaks his toe on the way. On Sunday he is really limping, and stops into the bar, where someone is foolish enough to call him a pussy. Personally, I never like to call 6’ 4” Marines pussies, they don’t have a sense of humor about it. Events are moved outside, punches are thrown, and then they retire back to the bar to have a beer together. Go figure! On Monday, Oldest decides he really needs an exray and I picked him. His toe is now as purple as…his eye.
RM: What the hell?
Son #1: Oh, I got in a fight. (explains)
RM:
RM: Did you win?
Son #1- Oh yeah, the other guy looks like hell. I bought him a beer though.

Did I mention that I can’t wait to have the tribe together again at Son #2’ wedding?