Papa's Day...

Greetings and salutations,

Cease and desist with the reply correspondence immediately drafted to question my sanity. I realize that, while it is a Sunday in early Summer, I fully acknowledge that this is, in fact, not Father's Day. Instead, today is a Papa's Day, one of those special days when Mama has to work and Papa and I get the opportunity to bond. The big guy and I have not had the privilege of many such occasions of late due to Papa's schedule. That made today that much more fantastic.

It started off like any other day. I stood up in bed and tried to open my bedroom door at 5:30 a.m. or so. Truth be told, I usually like to rise at 4:45 a.m., but I thought I would give the old man a break today. Nonetheless, upon arising the ritual breakfast bottle was subsequently consumed and then I returned to bed for my morning nap. By the way, I highly recommend an early snooze if one can secure it. I find myself remarkably invigorated throughout the remainder of the day. In any event, afterward Papa and I commenced with our day of fabulous festivities.

It was a leisurely beginning to Papa's Day. I started by tussling with Papa in the living room. I raced toward the shoes to munch on some laces while Papa tried to track me down. It should be noted that this is an advancement for me. Formerly, I would have no part of footwear. As soon as they were applied I would toss them aside without a second thought. Now I have advance to searching them out. Who insists that people cannot change? After this game of cat and mouse, we dinned on a legitimate meal consisting of a marvelously prepared lunch of apples, cherries, rice, and mixed vegetables. After cleansing the palate with some multi-grain Cheerios, we hit the bullpen.

Papa and I retired to the family Cubs museum were I elected to work with my personal catcher. No, this is not Papa; it would seem fairly obvious that he is my pitching coach. I actually have a designated catcher. Admittedly, he has a weak arm; well, actually he does not have any arms. Nonetheless, he shows up everyday and little gets past him. True, on occasion his performance is a bit flat, but that is remedied by Papa inflating him with additional air.

Anyway, after working up a good sweat, Papa and I focused on tractors. I was, of course, Johnny the Tractor while Papa played the roll of Big John. I tell you what, we got a great deal of work done. With the help of Elmo, Ernie, and Gary the Gator we completed all of the chores and managed to plant a good share of the living room. The team effort was amazing, witnessing all of the machines function in harmony was a sight to see. With that said, I was a little disappointed with Cory the Combine's performance. He appeared disinterested, operating under the guise that there were minimal tasks for him to accomplish. We will get even with him in October when harvest time rolls around.

With the work complete, Papa and I elected to take a trek to the local park. After lathering up with copious amounts of SPF 1,000,000, sunscreen, we found our way to the aforementioned destination. It was then that I met the new recreational love of my life...the swing. Oh the time that we had. While Papa was convinced that motion sickness was just a revolution away, I tolerated the exercise with glee. After more than thirty minutes at the park, I thought it was time to return to the homestead.

Upon returning it was time to indulge in supper. Papa prepared a lovely mixed vegetable with chicken entree accompanied by a delightful fruit medley desert. Truly a feast fit for a king. Next up was a refreshing bath highlighted by my insistence on ridding the tub with water, carefully dispersing it on the walls, shower curtain, Papa...anywhere but actually in the tub. After drying off, I settled into my Cubs chair to catch the first few innings of the Cubs Sunday night game. That was a bit disturbing, as my Cubbies gave up five runs in the first inning. But on the bright side, with Aramis Ramirez on the disabled list I did not have to listen to Jon Miller awkwardly pronounce his name. Regardless, it was nice to enjoy a frosty Similac ale with Papa and take in a Cubs contest in the comfort of our own Cubs museum.

As bedtime approached, Papa sat me down to read some nursery rhymes. I bounced and pointed as we progressed through the text. It was great to hit the books with Papa. And with that, Papa's Day concluded. He assisted me in saying my prayers and lovingly tucked me into bed. I did manage to sneak out while he was eating supper to jot down my thoughts on our day together. While I may not remember all of the nuances of today, this memoir will help and I know that Papa will always recall our time together today. In retrospect, although I am clearly a Mama's boy, I certainly love Papa's Day.

Carter

Someone in heaven is always looking after me...