While going about the normal evening school-night rituals, I happen to walk past the girl’s bathroom. The door was closed. The shower was running. But there was also a conversation happening. I slow to listen to what was being discussed. I happen to catch the end of what my oldest was saying: “[unintelligable]…Belmont?”
I wrinkled my brow, perplexed at what she might be saying.
“Ummmm…” my youngest ponders whilst from inside the shower. “Wisconsin.”
“Wisconsin?” I think. “What are they talking about?” I listen further.
“Bayou?” I wonder.
“Bayou!” calls out the voice from the shower.
The conversation continues.
“What in the world?” I think bemusedly.
“…or Michigan State?”
You-slah? Michigan State? I am beginning to catch what is happening here.
My youngest calls out, “State!”
“Ari, are you sure?” my oldest replies, “State is number 10 and You-slah is number 7.”
I walk to the kitchen and grab my recently printed NCAA Final Four bracket. My eyes scan to see if anything is familiar to what I have just been hearing. Behold, I find my way to the Southeast regional. Sure enough, Belmont is matched up with Wisconsin. I look further to discover that “Bayou” (i.e BYU, as in Bringham Young University) is indeed paired with Wofford. And You-slah (i.e. UCLA) faces Michigan State.
My oldest was kneeling on the floor, a pencil in hand with a bracket on the toilet seat lid filling in my youngest’s bracket for her while she showered.