I took my dad to an NBA game last night. I didn't take Mom because she hates the squickety-squeak-squeak-SQUIIIIIIIIIICK noises the players' sneakers make on the court. My mom cracks me up. She has the strangest pet peeves. If you don't believe me see my post on the Top Ten Things that Creep Her Out. In addition, she hates those Charles Schwab commercials with the freakishly realistic cartoon people. She can't stand "Old Lady Perfume." And she is deathly afeared of spiders. That last one is really weird, I know. Oh, also wreaths on car grills at Christmas time really annoy her. Aaaaaaand she thinks Beyonce is "just a big ol' nuthin'" (she likes to point this out every single time she sees her on TV. Without fail.) My mom is so awesome.
So Dad and I went on a father-daughter outing to the Thunder/Jazz game. It was fantastic because my boss gave us his tickets to use, so we were on like the 7th row. By the way, do you guys know how tall NBA players are? They're really tall. And the court looks surprisingly small up close. But maybe that's just cuz of the tall players dwarfing everything else.
During timeouts the obligatory launching of free t-shirts via compressed air-gun would begin and people would start frantically waving their arms to catch the attention of the Powers That Be... Givin' Out T-Shirts. Which brings me to my point. Why. On earth. Do people freak out so much over a dang t-shirt? Seemingly normal adults turn into crazed maniacs, tackling small children and senior citizens in order to get their chance.
What. Is the big frikkin' deal? They're always like quintuple XL anyway. I mean, I suppose you could stuff a blanket into one and use it as a duvet cover on your guest bed. Or perhaps reupholster a couch. I dunno. I just DON'T get it. Maybe it's just me.