Kinda broke my heart the other day, reading on my journalist brother's Facebook page how he and his boys often spend nights in the stands eating popcorn and Skittles while he covers the games.
"Broke my heart" because the image of him and his boys is so sweet. When I was a kid, in the rare occasions that I got to attend anything, I was shunned for asking for popcorn or candy. When I read my brother's account, I felt happy for his kids.
On the darker side, because my own ONE memory of going to a high school football game with my father was a shitty one: While at the game, we saw a teen girl riding on her boyfriend's shoulders. My father pointed out to me what a slut she was.
I don't remember anything else about the game.