“Guess what today is,” said Dad through his giant smile. “Saturday,” replied Little Barry. “Yes, but what else?” asked Dad. Little Barry had no more guesses, so he begged Dad to tell him. “The Perfect Weekend,” said Dad. Little Barry knew what perfect meant. And, of course, he knew what the weekend was. Weekends were the best because that’s when the crimson-and-cream played football. But Little Barry couldn’t remember ever hearing the two words together. “What’s a Perfect Weekend?” he asked.