Saturday, September 26, 2009

Riley Goes to West Jordan High School Homecoming!



















Last night was West Jordan's Homecoming Dance. Riley asked a cute girl named Lexi to go with him. The date started out with a day date where they had KFC at a Bluffdale park, followed by games like whiffle ball, football and croquet. Sounds like they had a good time and the weather was perfect. The night date consisted of dinner at the Spaghetti Factory, the dance and pictures, and finally an outdoor fire and movie at Corbin's house. Here are a couple of pictures of the handsome young man! Please take note of his strategically placed arms which highlight the amazing French cuffed shirt topped off with even more amazing cuff links which belonged to Great-Grandpa Larry, a former railroad worker. I believe Riley takes after his brothers more everyday! He says he just happens to love cuff-links. Did I mention how handsome he looked?



Dad and I saw Riley off and then sat on the front steps and pondered where the time had gone. We were seeing our last child off for his first big school dance. Time flies by, it wasn't that long ago that we were doing the very same thing with our first. Not wanting to dwell on the fact that we will soon be all alone...We took Bauer for a walk and then decided to go downstairs and play ping pong. Now, I know that you all think I am the competitive one in the family, and maybe there is a little truth to that, maybe a little history proves that out, but have you played with your father? So, everytime we play ping pong together it goes like this...we first begin by just hitting the ball back and forth, just a nice little rally, we do this for a while, then he says, "You want to play a game?" So of course I have to agree, thinking maybe this time we could just play for fun. Then I get get my first point and he says 0-1, then I get another and he repeats, 0-2. I'm thinking, hey I'm hitting the ball pretty well today and then he gets his first point and he says, 1-2, then it's 2-2, then 3-2, then it's 4-2, 5-2, 6-2, 7-2... you get the point. Here is the thing that kills me, it's that he has to say the score loudly every single time, have you ever noticed this? He can't just quietly say it in his mind, or repeat it every couple of scores, but no...he says the score loudly each turn --all the way up to 21-2. Every single time. I think some of you out there know how I feel, you that have lost to him in golf, basketball, tennis and now ping pong. How do you like the score being flaunted at every turn? He says he is not competitive, but the way he pumps his fist and mutters under his breath, "I love to beat them" is proof enough, even when he beats ME. And now... Riley and I are the only ones he has around to beat up on all the time. Am I a bad loser, probably, but come on...does he have to repeat the score every single time?

3 comments:

  1. First of all, how did riley end up with the railroad cuff links. I dont believe that those were ever offered to me. He does look pretty good though. I dont know how lexi could resist sexi riley. Mother, welcome to the club of playing sports against dad. For years you have cheered him on and encouraged him to beat us. Now you know why we want to beat him so bad. He always beats us and every once in awhile we get him and there is nothing better. Needless to say, I will beat him in tennis when you guys come down here this week and I have been practising ping pong. I have some tables on campus and i have been improving.-matt

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  2. OHHHHHH RILEY IS SOOOOO CUTE. And Matt I loved the sexi lexi commment. Clever. I can't believe Roll is old enough to go to dances and wore train cuff links. Mom and dad.. you guys crack me up. I mean it's not like you didn't know the score or anything, but yet he has to repeat it/rub it in. Pretty funny friday night if I might say. Next blog post should be one by dad.. that would be the day.

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  3. I want a close up of the cufflinks. And did Riley's shirt come French cut or did he poke holes in the sleeves. And Mom, please don't feign surprise over your husband's competitiveness. You can't tell me when you two were playing tennis in Southern California with a sun-toasted Dad topless in short shorts with long flowing locks that he wasn't breathing the score to you before each service.

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