Dear Super Bowl,
I just wanted to write and thank you so much for finally being here. You see, a few months ago, my husband and I started having problems: He wanted to watch football every Sunday all morning and I had a problem with it. At first I didn't care. I've never been the kind of wife that's like " NO WATCHING SPORTS ON SUNDAY." How could I be that hypocritical, knowing that next month I will be sitting on my couch one Sunday evening, holding my fake Oscar and rooting for Will to win best actor? But I had no idea that the football season lasted so long. And it was every Sunday. Every Sunday during the time we needed to be getting ready for church.
I have my wonderful brother-in-law to thank for this. See, Bill never watched football on tv before Jeff called and invited him to play Fantasy Football. Oh, the very words make me shudder. Suddenly Bill was standing right smack in the middle of his fantasy, and he had actually become that cliche macho man sitting on his couch yelling at the tv screen, as if anyone playing could hear him or care.
And did it stop when Fantasy Football ended a month or so ago? As if my luck would be that good! No, no, Bill was hooked. He had invested so much time and interest into this season that he just had to see who made it all the way.
So there he was, week after week, sitting on our couch Sunday morning into Sunday afternoon, watching that cursed game of football. Oh, he would help out. He'd get the kids in the bath while I got ready and did last minute music stuff.
"Daddy, I'm ready to get out." "Just a second, as soon as this play's over." Ten minutes later: "Daddy, I really wanna get out now." "Yeah, okay, I'm coming." Ten minutes later:
"Daddy, the water's getting really cold" "Okay, okay, I'm coming!" Ten minutes later:
"Daddy, I think I just saw the Titanic float by and hit an ice berg" Okay, the last part may have been fabricated, but the time frames were sadly accurate.
Soon I was counting down the Sundays til the Super Bowl like a kid before Christmas. And lo and behold, today, I got to cut the last link from my paper chain! Yipee!!! For once I am completely okay with having the tv be monopolized for five hours by guys in little pants and big shirts crashing into each other, because I know it is the last time I will have to do it! At least for another nine months or so.
So thank you, Super Bowl, for finally arriving and putting an end to my single-parent Sundays.
And, FYI, for some of us non-football fans, the only part of the Super Bowl worth watching besides the commercials was the half-time show. Ever since Janet had her "wardrobe malfunction", your halftime show has been as exciting as the game itself. Not. I would take a little sunburst nipple ring over Paul McCartney and Prince any day of the week. Yawn.