Wednesday, June 26, 2013

The Nichols Brood Invade Turner Field ...

I would love to sit here and type how much I long to sit in the hot stands with an extremely overpriced Coke in my hands and cheer on our Atlanta Braves. And I would love to sit here and tell you all about who plays what position and what their stats are. But it's not going to happen. Sorry folks. 

Don't get me wrong. I love the occasional ball game. I love going with the Hubs and trying so hard to get on the Kissing Cam. We fail miserably every.single.time though. Our smooches are adorable, I don't know what their problem is. There is nothing quite like the Tomahawk Chop though. 

Apparently the husband didn't get the memo last Tuesday that I toted four kids around to the bowling alley and out for pizza and ice cream with Nicole and Amber's crew. Then I really shook things up and decided if we were already out, exhausted and miserable - we might as well get haircuts too. In the midst of the chaos, the husband shoots me a text asking about heading to the Braves games. 

With all my heart, I pulled the "one of the boys doesn't feel too well" card. 
It didn't work. He'd already been to Academy and bought a new Braves hat. He was determined to go. And I was determined to stay home. 

So what do all responsible, rational married couple do to solve problems:

Best out of three was thrown as we stared at four beyond tired boys and cloudy skies. I lost and we loaded up and headed to Turner Field with ponchos and pistachios in hand.

The tickets we snagged came with a $10 food credit on each one at the 755 Club.
 It was pizza-times-two kind of day. 

One of the best things about the night was this lady meeting up with us for the game. One positive note to social media: she read my status and BAM! met us there. 

This little dude is more of a football guy if you ask me. 
Either that or the Chop wore him out.

Like all last minute things that turn out amazing, I was so glad we went. We ended up with amazing tickets, a cool breeze and the boys had a blast. And after many bad dance moves, we still failed to get on the jumbo screen. 

Maybe next time boys. Maybe next time. 

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