husbands and football

I obliged my dear husband today by going out to watch the game so he could be surrounded by other people who care about the outcome, as opposed to me and Fielder, who look at him like he’s crazy when he refuses to sit down to watch.

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Of course I’m not one to say no to delicious brunch and some of my favorite people so off to The Great Dane we went! Only the Pack didn’t quite seem to be giving it their all while we were out so at the end of the third quarter we made the mad dash home. You see, Packer fans are some of the most loyal, and most superstitious, fans around. And since we (really just he) watched the majority of Packer games from the comfort of our own home this season, it would only make sense that they found their rhythm as soon as we headed home.

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(Yes, that is an original NES on my otherwise bare fireplace mantle.)

Dear husband spent that last quarter biting his nails, cheering, and not sitting down, while I sat on the couch saying things like, ““Aw, he’s a rookie? He did such a good job!” and “I want one of those big puffy coats they wear on the sidelines.”
And he looks at me like I’m not paying attention, tries to explain a play to me and I respond with, “Ooooh, look at that guy’s butt!”

And he gets really excited about all sorts of good things that are happening, again tries to explain them to me, and I assume he’s speaking Japanese because I just don’t. get. it. And he jumps up and down a lot.

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And Fielder shares my sentiments of is that really necessary?

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But it’s all pretty cute. I’m glad my husband gets so excited about football. I love Sundays because they’re relaxing and easy and just, nice. He likes Sundays because of football. And because they’re relaxing. You know, once the Packer game is over and he can watch the rest of the games while sitting. For the most part.

Also, I cry at the end of every game when I see the quarterbacks shaking hands, the coaches giving each other props, and the winning teammates slapping each other on the butt. So I guess my husband also likes Sundays because he gets to make fun of me for crying about something I don’t even care about all that much.

I just gots all the feels.

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