Medals

My work got a Best of State award the other day. Traci and I went to the award dinner. It was a swanky, black tie affair. It kinda felt like the Utah version of the Grammys or something with its red carpet, swing band, and giant 10-foot-high rotating Best of State statue. But instead of real celebs, we got Mark Eaton and Breinholt. A nice evening, nevertheless.


I came home, wearing the award medal around my neck. This really intrigued five-year-old Curtis.

"What's that, Dad?"

"A medal that my work won."

"It looks kinda...itchy. You should take it off."

It wasn't. But I did.

One second later, he had it around his neck. Well played, Curtis.

"What's this guy holding," he asked, looking at the medal. "Is it a basketball?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Do you wish it was a basketball?"

"Uh, I guess?"

"You love basketball, dad."

That's right. I do. I guess I need to figure out a way to win a basketball medal.