When I was a kid, I had plenty of reasons (or so I believed) to hate the sport of football — but I think I can trace it back to one week in particular during 7th grade.
I’m an August kid. For those countless masses of you of you lucky enough NOT to have been born at the end of summer vacation let me explain to you what this means:
1) You never have to go to school on your birthday.
2) When you start working, you really start to miss #1.
3) You’re either a year older or younger … Continue reading