Young turkeys

The annual Turkey Bowl was yesterday, and once again Daniel, John, and Matt played football with, and against, guys up to 13 years younger than them. Daniel ripped the skin from his knee and the bottom half of Gabe's shirt from his body, but he succeeded in taking three flags throughout the course of the game. Mighty Matt ran the ball Barry Sanders fashion, straight up the field, spinning like a washing machine through countless arms and legs, and delivering that pig skin into the end zone. Our team procured the trophy in the end, and then Matt passed out pain killers to all the old guys.

We wives manned the children, wiping noses and passing out snacks, while cheering for our men from our camp chairs in the cold.

And we didn't pass up the chance to mingle with precious women 13 years younger than us, who always lift our hearts and hold our kids, and keep us young by introducing us to Longchamp bags and rubber-soled leather boots (both of which are now on my wish list).

I love what we do! It never gets old. Here's hoping we never will, either.