A new home. A new schedule. New Faces. New Routines. Old Feelings. Old Habits. No, not really. Last Sunday, the NFL Conference Championships are on in 20 minutes and I sit on my bed, laptop on and a four year, is pointing to the screen. "Put the green one there," she says. I smile, and click the green piece and slide it over the where she asked. Click. She's right. We finish the puzzle and she begins to clap. I smile. She hugs me and tells me she loves me. The little girl is the granddaughter of my new roommates/landlord. It's only the second time I've met her, but she's been here the entire weekend. Sports is the furthest thing from my mind. A few minutes go by and she and her two-year-old brother sit on my bed, drinking milk and eating cookies. Crumbs fall all over and they laugh when I tell them I'll get in trouble with the poppas. Oh yes, my roommates/landlords are a two men, married to each other. Every two weeks, the kids come for a visit. It...