#265

Meg's lips are constantly chapped and bleeding. It's obvious and graphic, like it's Halloween and she's a vampire, or she's Ronda Rousey. Megan has ChapStick, Vaseline, Carmex, and EOS. She has Bath & Body and Burt's Bees. Botanical this, citrus that; it's not working. Chapped lips are an awful spiral, we lick, pick, and chew until they're cracked and horrible. Maybe Meg's EOS is the problem. People are documenting rashes and reactions and, of course, filing suit. Meg has a lavish collection of EOS 'spheres.' She lines them up like I did army men. EOS has more colors and flavors than Jelly Belly. Marketing geniuses over there. Chicago winters and winds can be testy, unkind, not good for lips, hands, dry skin. But there are eight million people here that don't look like they're in Fight Club, or whatever bloodies lips. I can't blame Chicago or Jay Cutler. Is Megan dehydrated? Allergic? Nervous? Fishing for a day at the spa? "I'm fine, Dad," she says. No, you're not. Here we go.

After an oh-and-two start, the girls won their first basketball game. I'm the coach. Megan shot the ball well and finished with 10 points. I've never been happier. They're young but surprisingly coachable; we've implemented several plays, and they execute our plays and concepts well. Most importantly, they're positive and fun and they smile when I'm silly. They're also serious when I'm serious. They're scrappy and competitive and I've seen a few tears from frustration and minor injury, and I can tell you with certainty that if I coached them long enough, and they achieved great things, they'd see me cry too. And that's no big admission; I see athletes and coaches get emotional all the time. Makes perfect sense.