The Club

So there's this club Dad and I belong to called the "No Shirt Club," or NSC for short. Dad is the official President of this Club, so he gets to say who can be a member and who can't (note: Mom is not allowed. She's much too old and I'm pretty sure if she joined, our family would be investigated).

I had my initiation a couple days ago, but don't worry, it wasn't anything crazy like what you probably did back in college for your sorority or fraternity (no fat circling here, that would be my entire body!). It simply consisted of us both walking around without our shirts on one afternoon - hence the photo Mom caught above (that Dad made her swear she wouldn't put on this blog - sucker!).

That's it really...I then went on about my business the rest of the day sorting through the tupperware cabinet. Pretty lousy club, actually.

The next day Dad played in a kickball tournament and Mom and I went to watch (I know what you're thinking, I didn't realize anyone still played kickball at their age either). This time shirts were required. Not my most flattering photo, I must say.

I chilled out with my friend Lucy Hake on her blanket and went over the Roster with her.

Then I cheered Dad on from the sidelines and dodged the balls coming my way.

Up next, another trip to Nebraska to visit family this weekend. I get to stay with Grammi and Grandpi Klein while Mom and Dad go to a wedding in Omaha.

Catch you on the flip side!)