My dad's brother, Leo, and his family are huge Alabama fans. My brother, Michael, was given an Alabama National Championship game ball, signed by all the players and coaches. Being Michael, he decided to surprise Leo with it as we were eating pizza at our cousin Joe's house when we visited them last month. Also, being Michael, said presentation was accompanied by a heartfelt, teary, sentimental speech about how much we love their family - which we do, because they're nicer and more civilized than our Denton branch. Unbeknownst to Michael, it was extra special because that game happened to be the first game that Uncle Leo ever attended and he attended with his son, Joe. The ball barely made it for the presentation, because at the airport, en route to Alabama, Michael, being Michael, stopped to do some last minute financial business for my dad, set the ball down, next to a trash can, while he wrote some checks, then rushed to the plane, forgetting the ball sitting by the trash can. But, being Michael, he called God and everybody from the the plane and although airport security and the airline rep both told him they'd checked next to the trash can and it wasn't there (Liars!), he got some young customer service rep to run down and look. Of course, the ball was sitting where he had left it and the kid overnighted it to our hotel. The ball gifting was totally Michael's doing, but I'm so happy that it's going to preside over the War Room where my wonderful uncle and cousins watch the Red Tide roll.
Long story, but it's just not in me to cut corners where words are concerned. More may not be better, but it quiets the voices.
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