Just wondering if you are football fans, football-phobic, or somewhere in the middle!
I've tried to like football . . . I really have.
I didn't grow up with football on TV . . . on the front lawn . . . at my school. Nothing.
But I quickly caught on that many in the male species were particular enamored by this sport.
In college, I thought it would help my conversational abilities with said species if I knew a little about the game, so I checked out a book from the library (my solution for most of the problems of life).
I read it. I tried to understand it. I tried to care. I could not.
Reality check: (If you have to check out a book to understand football, you are way too geeky to even be going down that path. Stop immediately. Retrace your steps. Run for your life.)
One of my first "dates" with the Man of the House was on New Year's Day. We hung out at another buddy's bachelor pad. There were 3 TV's playing 3 different games. I sat there and attempted to watch and feign interest for 10 straight hours. Yep, me and 4 sports-crazy guys. I was wishing I had snuck in a book . . . like something by Jan Karon. But, of course, I didn't want to appear . . . ahem . . . uninterested . . . or weird . . . or, uh, geeky.
And, well, that's just as far as it's gotten. Any time there's a big game, I usually look at the 2 teams, note the colors of uniforms, pick my favorite color, and claim them as my team for the night. I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry. I know that makes any football fans among you feel slightly nauseous.
So, last night was the Super Bowl. Everyone was in high spirits. Snacks were prepared, blankets were tucked around toes, seats were "claimed."
Youngest Daughter danced into the kitchen.
"This is a very special night!"
"Oh, really, why do you think so?"
"Because we've got all this really good food."
"Oh, and by that, you mean the 3 different varieties of Cheez-Its and the strawberries dipped in mounds of powdered sugar that you have on your plate?"
"Uh-huh!" Eyes glowing, feet dancing, smiling ear to ear.
Football. Very special night. I've lost them all . . . every last one of them.
So, what did I do on Super Bowl Night? I made a fabulous apple pie for them to enjoy.
See, I may not like football, but I'm not a spoil sport. I'll make your snacks, tuck your blankets, and serve you apple pie a la mode to die for.
Just, please, don't make me watch!