I've been going down to Provo on Tuesdays to hang with TRQ and the Coach, which has been fun, especially since TRQ and I are on an epic quest to eat a burger at a different hamburger joint every week.
Except today we got mixed up and ate mushroom soup at Zupas
But that's not the point. The point is this: when we first walked into Zupas I heard some guys sitting at a table together complaining about BYU's football team. Suddenly I felt a familiar pit in my stomach. OH NO! (I thought.) SOMEBODY'S GOING TO SAY SOMETHING MEAN ABOUT MY DAD! AND THEN I WILL HAVE TO BEAT THEM UP! WHICH WILL GET ME THROWN OUT OF ZUPAS AND THEN WHO WILL EAT MY CHOCOLATE-DIPPED STRAWBERRY?
And then I remembered. My dad doesn't coach anymore. He hasn't for 16 seasons now. But there I was, automatically reacting the way I reacted a lifetime (or more) ago.