Ok, maybe I’m the unpopular voice on this one — when everyone seems all exited to cozy up around the flat screen and eat things that are fried, out of oversized bowls, buttttt, I freakin’ hate football season… It starts weeks before, when my hubby begins reading those overpriced NFL fantasy magazines and sets up his game plan.
There are lists upon lists: who to choose. In what order. Who to choose in the event that those picks are already chosen. Who may have trade value later in the season. Are they fit enough going into this season, were they partying too much in the off season, are they having marital problems or anything that may effect their psyche’s? I imagine this is what he’s thinking as he mumbles to himself in his makeshift War Room, AKA my kids’ playroom. Frankly, there are times I half expect to walk in on my man in full camo. Though, to blend into our house he’d have to paint himself in zebra print with a bold pop of color, and maybe a chair rail across his chest.
Do you feel my pain? Would YOUR hub miss your child’s open house to attend his draft? — Oh, mine did… 2 years running, which is why I’m fairly certain he’s not exactly sure where the turn is to get to school.
By the time NFL season kicks-off, I already detest it, and I haven’t even had to walk in on my man and his friends cluttering up my family room, watching our NFL Sunday Ticket. I mean, I could be using that very space to watch something totally enthralling, like The Real Housewives, or something educational with my kiddos, like Adventure Time.
Fine, so I wouldn’t necessarily put the family room to better use, but I could at least walk around in my undies. And fine, I’ll admit it’s super cute to see my son and hubby get all into a game and run around high-fiving while they figure out everyone else’s fantasy scores for the week. And ok, though the other teams have “awesome,” ahem, names like: The Cunning Stunts, MO BJ’s, HandRocket, and Spider Pig, I do enjoy that our team is named, Jenny’s Coattails. Annnd yes, it IS refreshing to know that if NFL season ends with a win for Jenny’s Coattails, there will be an insanely expensive pair of shoes in it for me.
Frankly, I deserve them, for keeping most of my complaints in writing and allowing prime time use of the comfy sofa.
You’re welcome Mark!
Ladies who may agree with me: My advice — when the game is on, hand your man something spicy, fried, and covered in a mayo based sauce… and a beer. By the end of the season I think we can all justify a new pair of boots whether he wins or loses. I’ve got my eyes on these: