Sunday Evening Post

iPhone pictures from the week.

A shot of Eli at his first visit to the dentist.

His doctor looks to have a nice set of choppers, so he's probably in good hands.

 My wife and her yoga class friends celebrating their flexibility and good health.

Yoda Yoga.

My son and I made root beer and he decided to name it "Black Beer."

OK.  I'll humor him.  After all, he's only nine.

Then, however, he gives it the caption:

"Make your night blacker."

Every time I see the bottle on the counter all I can think of is Billy Dee Williams hawking the stuff on television.

We are in the process of taking left over clementines and making marmalade.

The kitchen never smelled better.

We met some friends at the rock climbing walls in in New Castle to let the kids stretch their limbs, have some fun, and get some exercise.  Definitely a bunch of brave souls...

... considering that these are the types of signs posted on location.

I love the sheer look of bewilderment on the soon-to-be-injured man's face.

It cries out:

"Et Tu, Brute?"

 Let's get it over with.

I met three of my college chums on the University of Delaware campus to watch the Blue Hens play for the National Title (this is a shot of the view at Iron Hill Brewery).

Delaware was up by 19 points and then - bam - they lose their lead and the game during the fourth quarter.

It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Brutal.

 We had Sunday dinner at my parent's home and the only way I get to watch football is if I roll my son around on a chair during commercials.  Not a bad compromise.

Next week is big.

Joe "everybody loves him and he played for Delaware" Flacco against the Pittsburgh Steelers.

This one could very well cause a great divide betwixt my family brood.

Baby Boomers aligned with Baltimore - Gen X-ers standing proudly with the Black and Gold.

Stay tuned.

 U-G-L-Y.

You ain't got no alibi.

See you next week.