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Monday, February 4, 2013

Our Version Of Football


I grew up in a house where football and religion were kinda the same thing. It was spoken about with reverence. My brothers played and my dad stood on the sidelines screaming inspired instructions. College life was the first time I can remember living in a space not consumed with football gear and uniforms.

All these years later, I've given birth to all girls and married a pretty farmer who thinks that tennis is wicked cool. Football is nowhere to be found. It's really not even something I think about. Because, when you boil down the sport to the basics, it's simply boys in tights running outside. Ballet on grass. Except everyone smacks each other around to make it more manly.

I realized yesterday, at approximately 1:10 pm, that it was SuperBowl Sunday. I noticed balloons on mailboxes and cars gathered around homes in my neighborhood. Thinking about football parties makes me giggle. Truly. Tons of people gathered around watching the TV, and yelling at the TV, for hours. I'd rather knit an afghan with my feet. Or read a book. Or sit on the couch and stare at the ceiling.

I'm fairly certain that my football viewpoint is rather sacrilegious. My dad would write me a harsh letter (his most severe form of scolding) if he knew I had voiced these kinds of ridiculous thoughts. But there is just something about football I don't get. What's the point of all that running and sweating just to win a ring?

The game was on at my house. The Husband told me that he wanted the 49ers to win because they were "his team". I've known this man for 18 years and I had no idea he even had "a team". That's a little crazy. But, I will admit to watching snippets of the game. The Ravens had the cutest outfits, so of course that's who I wanted to win. Fashion always rules the day.

The halftime show was amazing. I watched Beyonce in all her awesomeness and thought, "Huh. That girl is 10 years younger than me and has done a whole lot more with her life than I have." Maybe I could be just like her if I had a cooler name. Well, and a little talent. Baking great desserts doesn't really make you a superstar.

I've been sitting at my computer for the last hour watching all the SuperBowl commercials. I have laundry waiting and kids that need help getting ready for school, but who cares. I think the commercials are my favorite part of the game. Maybe next year I'll switch things up and have a Commercials Party. When the football game is on, we'll eat cake and play card games. That just might be crazy fun. Let me know if you want an invite. I'll start keeping a list.


2 comments :

Candice said...

Just FYI, baking awesome desserts DOES make you a Superstar!!! :)

Eric and Amy said...

Put me on the list ... I'll be there ;). And I'll bring our knitting needles to make our blankets with our feet ;).