Phone calls and texts were exchanged. Sam squealed and bounced (which is pretty normal, but I think he had some extra spring in his step.) Bratwursts were grilled. Sam went to bed. We continued to celebrate. I’ll probably wear red for days.
And for the record, Melissa’s been calling it for a week. It’s great to be a Georgia Bulldog.
(sorry, Blue Sky readers, but this merited cross-posting.)