Every year when Superbowl time rolls around, Chris ends up disappointed because I just. don't. care. about it. I suppose I'm lucky that he's not a passionate football fan who wants to watch every game; he only wants to watch the big game. But none of the Superbowl hubbub impresses me. It's just one more, overlong game. Chris would like to spend the day at a big party, but all I see is a long, boring evening.
However, I must say that this year was my favorite Superbowl yet. This is how we do it:
Snuggles.
Snacks.
Sippy cup.
No shoes (or socks) required.
The kids were so delighted at the prospect of
1. watching TV
2. eating dinner in the living room
3. eating snacks for dinner
that they were remarkably cooperative until we shuffled them off to the bath after halftime. Caleb loved Beyonce's halftime show (do you remember how much he loved Madonna's performance last year?), and has since asked to hear "Single Ladies" several times. His only question "Is she wearing underwear? Where are her pants? Why is she not wearing pants?"
Good question, son. Good question
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