"Commit to the Indian"

That's a saying that a Blackhawks coach used a few years back when he was trying to get his guys to play together. Well, we say it in our house (and by "we" I mean dad) when they drop the puck to start every hockey season. After tonight, I gotta say, I've committed to the Indian.

Tonight was date night with Dad, and with this guy we're not talking a night out to see a Disney Princess movie. We're talking pizza and a Blackhawks game - my first Blackhawks game, to boot. Mae was not really invited but somehow she scammed herself into the pre-festivities photo.

Date night started at Giordano's, where I can just eat pizza til I puke. On the way in I saw a random car with a Blackhawks flag. It was clear from the get-go we were not in enemy territory.

Then it was on to the Za. One part I really love is putting the cheese on top of the pizza (why do we put cheese on top of cheese? Because it's awesome). I shake cheese so fast down at Giordano's the waitresses call me "The Blur."

Now some people might've thought it was a bit ambitious to order a large cheese pizza when it was just my dad and me eating it. And by "some people," I mean, people who don't know my dad and me.

Then we headed to the game.

SIDE NOTE: We parked on this random side street a few blocks from the stadium that Dad says is kind of secret parking no one knows about. I'm thinking people actually know about it, they would just never in a million years leave their cars there for three hours. We got out and this dude stumbles over and says, "For three dollaz I'll watch yo car to make sure nuttin happens to it." And Dad says, "Well, what if I don't give you three dollars?" and the guy says, "Then I can't promise nuttin ain't gonna happen to yo car." So Dad says, "That's reasonable, but I got a good feeling you'll take care of my car for two dollars." and the guy says, "Damn straight." Then he takes dad's two dollars and says, "I'm just finna run over to the liquor store and then I'll be right back to watch it fo ya." Nice secret parking spot, Dad, real nice.

Back to the game, we had AMAZING seats, in a luxury box about 25 feet from the ice (my Dad said we had those seats because he knows Oprah but then I found out they were given to us by people he works with).

As if quality hockey was not enough, during the second period this guy walks into our box and says something about a dessert cart having arrived. I'm like, "Wait, WHAT?" So we go out and get to choose from about ten different desserts. Chocolate chip cookies, cheesecake, carrot cake, turtles (not those kind), something called Chocolate Paradise Cake. So I get a piece of Smores Cake that was the size of Manhattan and I make Dad get the ice cream sundae so, naturally, I can eat that, too. And we topped it off with a cup of hot chocolate.

As you can see by my smile the sugar rush kicked in quickly and held a nice buzz til the game was over. All in all it was a great date night with my Dad...

Capped off with a Blackhawks winner. My official Blackhawks record stands at 1-0.

Don't forget to save your ticket stub.