I know it’s very old news now, because YESTERDAY, PEOPLE, but how about those Broncos? I had to cut a thick slice of humble pie and savor it slowly with our cute neighbor boy, because his team came out as the Victor Extraordinaire in the Super Bowl.
Meanwhile, over here at our ranch, Hubs was sitting on the sofa, looking like he’d just come home to find his kittens had been kicked all over the place. I should clarify that we DO NOT HAVE NEW KITTENS, because when I told Carrie about Hubs’ facial expressions during the game, she asked, “What? Hubs got kittens?”
(For the record, Hubs and I cannot have any more kittens together. Ever. It’s because Before Hubs [which is also known as BH], I grew up with kitties, and they were all normal. Every last one of them. After Hubs [obviously, AH], we have had four cats together, and all four of them [as in, 100% of the group being studied] has been UN-normal. The common denominator is Hubs, so deductive reasoning points to the fact that Hubs turns sweet kitties into weird cats.)
(Which, aren’t you glad you know that now? Because what were we even talking about? The Super Bowl? And now we’re talking about house cats.)
(Having my mind is like having seven hundred and eight browser windows open on your internet connection at the same time. My mind… It’s ALWAYS a-workin’.)
Anyway, Hubs’ mood yesterday was on top of Mt. Everest, because he thought he was KING OF THE WORLD! His team was in the Super Bowl, and orange and blue confetti were gonna reign down on New York when the game wrapped itself up. We suggested to the cute neighbor boy that maybe he’d like to replace his blue and green jersey with one of our borrowed Broncos T-shirts, but apparently he made a wise choice and said, “No; I bleed Seahawk blue.” And then the game-opening Snap-Gone-Bad-And-Heard-Around-The-World pretty much shocked Hubs’ nervous system. He commented that he thought he was going to need a bucket to puke in, even though TWO TO ZERO, Y’ALL! Two. To. Zero. And we were ONLY a minute into the game, so I said, “Listen. There are PLENTY o’ minutes left to get more than two points here.” But Hubs shook his head and said that this play had ruined the entire game.
What I feel ruined the entire game was the fact that Hubs and the boys and I all wore our Bronco shirts and jerseys to church yesterday morning, because we knew that Jesus would just be happy we had come, regardless of the fact that no one was wearing pantyhose or a tie. Plus, we knew that Jesus cheers for the Broncos, so he’d be giving us a quiet high-five. And then Hubs came home and took his old #30 jersey that says DAVIS across the back of it OFF. In its place, he wore a Batman T-shirt.
And do you know who wasn’t in the game?
That would be Batman.
The boys and I all kept our Bronco shirts on throughout the big game, but Hubs’ apparent alliance to winged superheroes instead of the orange and blue is what did us in.
On behalf of our family, I would like to apologize to Denver fans everywhere. Hubs’ wardrobe malfunction CAUSED that bad snap.
But I will say, the Super Bowl snacks were divine. Hubs “grilled” a pot of homemade chili on his Traeger, because he’s a descendant of wild mountain men, and that’s how his ancestors would have done it in Wild America. I wasn’t too sure about this, because CHILI? ON A BARBECUE? However, it turned out fantastically well, because mountain men are known for their culinary abilities, as long as you like meat… with a side of meat.
After the game, Hubs looked exactly like Elliott did, when E.T. died. To soothe his injured soul, he and the boy decided to watch an episode of Finding Big Foot. I know that’s what I would have done. Anytime I’m sad and down on my luck, I always find that watching a television show where grown men traipse through the woods with expensive night vision goggles and squeal like dinner pigs, as they whisper, “Did you hear THAT?”, hoping to lure in a seven-foot monkey, makes me feel better.
Oh, wait. No it doesn’t. Online shopping does that. Sometimes I get confused.
Y’all have a great Monday evening, and just know this one thing: Hubs has not even crawled through the brush in the dead of night with his night vision goggles to take down the cute neighbor boy’s green and blue flag. He’s trying to be a gracious loser, and let the neighbors fly their ugly flag high this week.