And So it Begins…..


About this time every year my husband becomes glued to the tv and computer and I pretty much cease to exist. “Why?” You may ask. Well, its simple, football. My husband’s mistress reenters our lives and I take a backseat to feild goals and first downs. Instead of hearing “I Love you” it’s “the Patriots play the Dolphins on ESPN” or “Auburn’s playing Southern Miss at 4pm.” Don’t get me wrong I like sports just as much as the next girl (I won’t say guy because I don’t like it that much.) I just don’t want to eat, sleep, and breath football. 

If there is a fantasy league for a sport I can guarantee you that my husband is in the league. For football, I believe he is in four leagues. One for work, one with college friends, and two yahoo/on-line leagues. Every year he commandeers the desk top computer and begins his comprehensive charting of every football statistic from the past year and preseason. In the past years he has been the “league commissioner” for his fantasy league with his college buddies. Usually they would all come to our house and have a huge sausage festival of beer, pizza, and drafting players for their team. I would be kicked out for the entire weekend to my sisters house. However, when I got pregnant I played the “not this year” card and have not had to have it here since. Besides, they totally let my fat boy out one year and he was gone for a whole week (when he came home he actually weighed under 20 lbs, which is just about the only time that has happened since he was a kitten.) 

During football season, NFL and college, my husband becomes a textpert and phone junkie. During the remaining parts of the year he can barely be seen on the phone let alone spend precious time texting. However, when football season comes roaring in our monthly texts amount skyrockets and our roll over minutes become nonexistent. I think there is a path worn in the garage from him pacing back and forth talking (loudly I might add) to one of his fellow fantasy players. 

Now, you might think that he completely ignores me, but no, he is so kind as to try and include me in his football pleasures. For example he will ask me who he should start. I usually ask him who is cuter. Then he will tell me either “so and so is” or “i don’t know, I’m a guy.” If he doesn’t know then I just say a name. If he does know, then that’s who I go with. I’m usually wrong and he gets less points. You’d think he would learn by now, but I guess he wants to keep me included.

None the less, I wouldn’t have it any other way in our house. I know there are days that I get frustrated and wish that sports did not exist. Then I remind myself what it is like when football season is over and how annoying my husband can be. Also, I can totally pawn the kid off on him as  “bonding experience” and be baby  free for at least two hours 🙂 By the end of football season I expect that my child will look like this:

or at least something similar.

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