I woke up this morning prepared to be a good wife on Superbowl Sunday, albeit, a wife that has no understanding of it despite attending four years of high school football games. By 9 am I had done my best to prepare by putting my hair in a sloppy pony tail and donning a Red Sox t-shirt. While this may seem misguided to some, it is my firm belief that since the Patriots are not playing today, football is officially dead to New Englanders and we can now begin shouting "Jeter sucks" at will.
The errant enthusiasm continued as I greeted Ryan with a battle cry of "WHO'S READY FOR SOME FOOZBALL?!?!?!" nearly causing him to upend his morning coffee. Shortly after, he asked what I wanted for dinner and that I was ready for. I may not know the difference between a quarterback or a lineback or a hunchback, but I DID know the answer to that question. I informed him that we would be having appetizers while watching the game and, well, he misted just a little bit.
Then we spent the next four hours cooking a feast.
Mini meatballs with this BBQ sauce
We were already stuffed by kickoff, just moments after Christina Aguilera had finished butchering the National Anthem. I've recovered a bit now though and I think there are some pickles left so if you'll just excuse me a moment...