An Ironic Homecoming
Summer came and went and already it was time for high school football. The schools in our town waste no time getting in on the sports bandwagon. Sports are a really big deal in our town. You don’t see a lot of writers, actors or musicians coming out of here, unless they were that weird kid down the block – you know who I’m talking about – the one who lives in one of the not-so-nice houses on the block and stares at his shoes all day. Hey, dude, those shoes ain’t gonna go anywhere unless you start walking and I wouldn’t want the Vegas odds on that happening, but I digress.
The homecoming parade was going to be held on a Saturday, followed by a pep rally to kick off the new school football season and it all ends with fireworks. Quite the day around here. I was pumped for it, and Sammy always went with me, too, but this time around, she had other plans. Who couldn’t see that – she’s always texting or talking on the phone. When the phone battery goes out, she heads right for her laptop in the world of social media.
Now, I’m not thrilled with her constantly reaching out for friends on the internet, you would think the friends she has in the neighborhood would be good enough, but Sammy always wants to broaden her horizons. And of course she loves the internet - dear old SuperDad makes a living on it.
Best thing about the homecoming festivities is that they all end before Sammy’s 8:00 curfew, which I’d be home in time for. I got back a couple of minutes before 8, and as soon as Sammy would walk through that door, we’d trade stories about what great times we had that day – then we’d go off to church the next day to thank our God.