Dear Family and Friends:

It’s been a busy few months since I last wrote. I know these letters are better when I focus on me, but I’ll step aside and let some other members of my family take center stage. Here are a few episodes:

Church:

Scottie turned 12 on March 8 and, that same day, was ordained a deacon in our church. It was really cool to be a part of that process. He’s our oldest and everything he does is usually a “first” in our family. (I say that with some reservation because Zach regularly comes up with “firsts” that usually end with spanks.) We (his parents) are very proud of him. He has been thrown into the thick of Church service without complaining. In fact, he seems to enjoy his extra time away from his family a little too much.

Braces:

Josh is getting his braces off soon. He’s only had them since last summer – not nearly enough time to be sufficient teased or embarrassed, in my opinion.

Football:

Spring football has been taking a lot of time, too. I still coach Scottie’s team. Josh is on another team for his age group and Zach is on another team for his age group. So between the three teams we go to practice 4 days a week and then have games on a fifth day for most of the morning. As a father, I have to say I’m in heaving. Really – there’s no such thing as too much football and I only wish Sam were old enough to play, too.

Oh, and I’m sure you are too embarrassed to ask, but the team I coach is actually winning a few games. Kind of hard to believe since my three prior seasons my teams combined record during the regular season is something like 2-20. My parents are especially proud of my achievement as a coach. For the last year and a half they have called me on Sunday to talk about the week and invariable they ask me about the latest football game. What usually follows is an embarrassing conversation about the latest blowout. But no more!! Ironically, my parents are on a mission right now and don’t call me Sunday evenings anymore. I’m sure that’s part of the whole “your family will be blessed when you go on mission” promise I’ve heard so much. There will be mixed emotions when they come home.

Spring Break:

We recently enjoyed spring break. Scottie has been saving his money to travel to Seattle to visit a friend who moved there 6 months ago. He’s an expert on the state of Washington because of a report he did on that state in second grade, so he didn’t much care for people telling him what to see or what to do while he was up there.

As soon as he got back to Arizona, we packed up the kids and went to San Diego for a few days – of course, not so long as to miss any football games that Saturday. We spent a day at the beach in 55 degree weather, playing in the freezing cold waves; protecting our food against the seagulls (we only lost one bag of chips); and collecting seashells that can now be found in every corner of our house and yard.

We spent another day in CA at Legoland. It was a fun day – especially seeing Scottie ride the tiny bumper cars with kids in the general age range of 6-8 years of age[1]. Next year I've decided that he and I will go to Six Flags or something akin while Jill takes everyone else back to Legoland or Sea World.

Work:

As a bankruptcy lawyer, you can probably imagine that I’m a little busy right now. (Actually, most of you are probably saying right now: “Scott’s a bankruptcy lawyer?” Yes, I hid my secret identity for years because of the shame of it all, but now bankruptcy lawyers are quite popular.) Anyway, the other day I had an important bankruptcy partner at my firm trying to track me down on a Sunday and so she called me at my house. Usually no one calls me at my house, let alone important people. What’s even rarer is that Zach answered the phone. Here’s how the conversation went from what I could hear:

Zach: “Hello?”

There was a pause and Zach looked confused and hesitated for a moment.

Zach: “What does available mean?”

A moment later he says “oh” and hands the phone to me. You have to admire the little guy for asking the question. He wasn’t about to give me the phone if “available” meant I was dead or something.

Washington D.C.:

I have a bankruptcy conference in Washington D.C. every spring. When Scottie turned 9, Jill and Scottie came with me to the conference and they toured while I sat in hotel conference rooms. Well, Josh is 9 now and this time Jill and Josh came with me. I wasn’t with them for most of the time, but apparently Josh tours a lot like his father (and Grandma Brown) – it’s enough to “see it” and move on quickly than to “examine and learn about it.” Jill is on the opposite side of the spectrum and she apparently had a difficult time keeping up with him as he raced walked through the various museums.
Besides, he was in love with the hotel’s swimming pool (much cooler than the Smithsonian) and the cable TV (Lincoln Memorial takes a backseat to Sponge Bob and the Final Four).

Science Camp:

It seems like Scottie is getting the most press in this letter, but there’s one more thing I have to tell you about – Sixth Grade Science Camp. Because I am a boy and Scottie is a boy and Jill is pregnant, I was selected to go. I’ve never been really good with that age group, nearly sending myself to jail several times when I have lost my temper teaching kids that age at church. So I promised myself I would be good and just let the kids do whatever they wanted in order to gain their favor and keep myself sane. That worked for the most part, although I still had to make sure they didn’t tell dirty stories or jokes and didn’t sneak out of the cabin at night in search of the girls’ cabins.

It was freezing cold up there (Prescott) – I ignored the teacher warning to bring warm clothing – so that actually kept the boys in check. The good news is that kept the boys in our cabin – and, hence, more supervisable – than they otherwise would have been. The bad news is that the cabin stunk like a pile of old gym shorts. The kids didn’t seem to mind the smell at all, flatulating every 3 minutes or so.

Just think, only five more Science Camps to go!

We love you all!

The Browns
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