Right about now, the grade-school son of one of my co-workers is calling my phone at the paper. He's leaving me a message that I will hear when I get to my desk Tuesday morning.
The message is usually along the lines of “I'm still up.”
No gloating. Just matter-of-fact.
Well, maybe a little gloating.
Every year, I bet him that he cannot stay up to see in the new year. And he always wins.
I'm sure he did so again this year. I'm so certain that I have already selected a coin for him. It's a gold-colored Andrew Johnson dollar.
Yes, Johnson was possibly our worst president. But if I was really a sore loser, I'd pay off in pennies.