Welcome to Earth, Tinley Argyle
Sorry for the three-day gap between blogs. I was on vacation. Of course, that hasn’t stopped me before. I generally blog every day. Usually two or three times. Vacation, Christmas, OU-Texas Saturday.
I’m on vacation this week, too, but this is different. This is a working vacation. I’ve got the girls. Tinley Argyle, seven pounds and three ounces of possibility, arrived at 9:10 a.m. Monday. My third granddaughter.
I haven’t got to hold her much, which has my daughter and son-in-law concerned, afraid too many well-wishers got in Papa Bear’s way. But I don’t mind. My day will come. And I’ve been busy with Riley and Sadie. My job these last three days is helping with the older girls. Riley will be 5 on July 5, and Sadie is 18 months.
Those are the two that twisted my life every which way. I’m doing all kinds of things I’d never have thought doing. Like buying a new truck to fit them both in, and sleeping on the floor, and going to McDonalds.
Riley is sugar and spice, ballerina and singer, born for the stage. She’s also a T-ball player. I don’t know that I can endorse 4-year-olds playing organized sports, but I can testify that it’s been a fun season for Rileybird. Her coaches, Tabitha and E.C. Fults, have been fantastic, the way they work with the kids. E.C. is a former Montana State football player; he does the Bobcats proud. My role in the T-ball experience was to teach Riley the concept of bases, which she has mastered, in the right order. Oklahoma sportswriting legend Ray Soldan always thought baseball would be more interesting if batters could choose which direction they ran when coming out of the batter’s box.
Our week has included a team party at Andrews Park splashpad and a game Tuesday night that was hailed out. With lightning flashing, me and the two girls got back to the truck about five minutes before the hailstorm hit. I was worried about dings on the new Nissan until those 75 mph straight-line winds arrived and tried to pick us up right off the pavement. Funny how you can go from worrying about metal to not caring one bit. The girls jumped into the front seat with me while we parked, alternately excited and scared.
Sadie is all charm and adventurer. She likes to blow kisses and pick up sticks and flop sideways when you’re trying to get her to go to sleep and sometimes even after you do. Sadie doesn’t talk as much as Riley did at 18 months. Sadie doesn’t jabber. She’s a one-word girl. Bite. Down. Puppy. Baby. Ball. That’s OK. She talks like Hemingway wrote.
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