Owls vs. Owls

This weekend once our schedule was wide open, thanks to the vomit in my car, Alex noticed that Rice was playing a 6pm home game. We had such a good time last year, we thought it would be a good Saturday night activity. So we decided to head up there to have dinner at the game. This might not be a normal thought to for any other college game, but the Rice stadium has Chick-fil-a, Papa John’s, Prince’s hamburgers, Marble Slab AND beer. It is like a picnic you pay to get into.
I went into the 3T box and pulled out the jersey I got Zach last year which fit James just fine. That one is not skinny. But that meant that Zach didn’t have one. I went to Academy during nap time in search but had no luck. So I did what any normal person would do and made one. 
I used an undershirt Zach threw into my bag at Target, some left over iron on paper from the Koman shirts, and my fancy new cutting tool. This is totally, totally normal. The scale is way off, which bothers me to no end, but given my last lesson in controlling….I let it go. And Zach was just happy to have a shirt to match his brother’s.
I snuck in some juice boxes for the boys and the gate checkers could have cared less. Oh and this is about 30 minutes into the game. It has started, don’t be confused.

 Slightly better representation on this side.

The beauty of a Rice game? You can just lay down on the ground if you don’t feel well because your parents have taken you to a Rice game with a stomach bug.

James spent the entire game asking where the owl was. The entire game. Luckily the Rice Owls were playing the Florida Atlantic Owls so there was an owl on each side.

Alex took them down front to get closer to the players and the owl. Unfortunately the owl thought James was friendly (his mistake) and tried to hug him. James freaked out. Which I actually think is rational considering a man-sized stuffed owl with wings was coming towards him.

They also have a “Kidzone” at the stadium with a bounce house, face painting and shaved ice. Seriously, this is just like a fancy picnic. Both the boys got to make their own shaved ice flavors. James was a big fan of his. Once he couldn’t reach it with his mouth I suggested he drink it. Why, I don’t know. It was already their bedtime.

But he would take a sip, lick his lips and say, “Delicious” with his little lisp. He took it very, very seriously.

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