Hate to say I told you so
So today my husband went to watch a high-school football game. His mom is the director of the marching band, and members of her family attend their high school’s football games pretty regularly.
Anyway, Jay decided to go to this game, despite the fact that the wind was a steady 29 mph, and gusting to 40 mph. I think the temps were in the upper 40s. I don’t know how to figure wind chill out, but I would imagine that’s pretty darn cold.
Jay knew about the forecast before he left, but said that he loved bundling up in cold weather and watching football. I said he’d catch his death out there.
Now he’s in the bedroom trying to sleep, but all I hear is “cough, cough .. coff … COUGH.”
Heaven help us
The Texas Longhorns are playing their rival, Texas A&M. They are losing. My die-hard, bleeds-burnt-orange husband is not happy. This is not going to be a fun night.
Brrrrrski
It got chilly! I actually had to break out my closed-toed shoes tonight, as well as put jackets on the kids.
We went shopping tonight during the ‘Horns game. I shop while my husband rants and raves at the TV; it’s a great arrangement and probably keeps us from killing each other. 
I enjoyed the shopping, but my excursion ended on a sour note at Wal-mart. Let me pause here and clarify my hate for Wal-mart… I wish I could convince myself never to walk in that place again, but alas, I am a cheapskate (oh, all right, I’m poor) and keep caving to their low prices.
I digress. Every time I go in that place, I wind up choosing the lane with the slowest cashier. Tonight was no exception, and when I was next in line, the people in front of me made a request that the cashier couldn’t figure out. So she called the manager. He couldn’t figure it out, either (even though the problem was relatively elementary), but the two of them bumbled around for TWENTY MINUTES before the customer just said to forget it.
So, I guess Wal-mart’s math goes: Low prices = lousy employee pay = lousy employees. Well, there’s also much to be said about the near-slave labor that products are manufactured under to maintain those low prices too, but I’m not going to get into that.
My little girl the football nut
My husband has brainwashed BOTH of our children now. When Mikaela watches games with him, she’ll say “Tek-shush, yay!” when prompted.
And today, when I walked into the kids’ room (they were supposed to be napping), I found her standing in her crib with Gabriel’s football in her hand. She looked at me and said, “Catch!”
Football widow seeks replacement husband for the season
Well, college football began tonight. And so begins another season of being married to a zombie-fied husband who can only recite football stats, team profiles, and what each player for every college team eats for breakfast.
My normally perfectly sane, mild-mannered husband turns into a lunatic each football season. I mean, really. Every time he watches a game, he screams so loud I’m just waiting for the police to come and arrest him for disturbing the peace.
We may have had a breakthrough on the football front, though: Jay was just narrating the play-by-play of the first game of the season (it’s still on as I write this) when I informed him that no offense, but I REALLY don’t care. He said that he wasn’t really talking “to” me, more like he’s talking ‘at’ me. So, I convinced him to talk at my already-brainwashed 2-year-old son. Every time football comes on, Gabriel runs to retrive his toy football from his room. He crouches in front of the TV, ball in hand, waiting for the snap. After they hike the ball, Gabriel runs and throws the football at us (boy, that kid has an ARM already!)
So, that’s taken care of one thing. Next, I hope to pawn Jay off on our friend Paul, a fellow crazy Longhorns fan. I’ll make food for him to bring! Just take him off my hands on gameday, please!
