Swoosh

Those who know me know of my life-long affinity for all things Nike and if you don't know me it probably wouldn't take very long to realize it.  I really can't explain it, but as long as I can remember I've been borderline obsessed with the swoosh. Now, with that in mind you can imagine how excited I was to find this at the store the other day when Maria and I were looking for the Bubba (we still don't have a name for him, but that's another issue entirely).  She must have seen the gleam in my eye as I picked it up, trying to hide my smile.  I couldn't hold it in very long and was soon grinning from ear to ear.  Fortunately, she smiled, too (she's actually quite supportive of my condition) and I was able to take it home. Now I just have to patiently wait 8 more weeks for the Little Guy to come so I can pass the tradition along.  I wonder if they make it in an adult M/L?  Hmmmm...

In a related story I recently found a letter I wrote in the 3rd grade to 'Nike' about how I wanted to work there and how great of a job I would do.  It talks of Bo Jackson and Andre Agassi and, as young as I was, how qualified I was (and still am) to work there.  Maybe I should have addressed it to Phil Knight so it would get past the secretary, but the offer still stands.