OK, before you think that I'm a horrible person, realize that I'm talking about my football season widowhood. In my household, football trumps ALL. NFL, College, Madden on Xbox or South American futbol; it doesn't matter, the obsession reigns. If it's on the tv (or secondary computer screen or iPhone), then it receives 100% of my husband's attention.
Also understand that my husband's only days off are Sunday and Monday, prime football days (yes, that was by design). Sunday warrants watching all 14 games in one way or another. That leaves Monday to fit in household chores and family time, as long as it is before MNF kickoff. After 7:30? Deal's off! The closer to kickoff, the more he glances at his watch and starts shaking much like I do when I want chocolate and can't get it.
So, getting down to business, I've decided to shrug off my grief, give up on mourning, and live life with my son whether football is on or not. If the hubby wants to turn the TV off and rejoin the land of the living, he is more than welcome, but I've spent enough time with sheets over the mirrors and a black band on my arm.
Life is for the living and Little Man and I are going to live it!
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