I hate football.
I've hated it forever.
I haven't even attempted to try and like it.
Before we moved, football was never on in our house nor was the word even mentioned. But when we moved here, in an effort to plug my son into his new community as soon as possible, I reluctantly relented to allowing my son to play on the local community football team.
Ever since then, it's been like opening Pandora's Box.
There is football on now almost every Sunday during the season and both my son and my husband enjoying those male bonding moments.
But I still hate it.
And today, Super Bowl Sunday, it's no exception. I have no interest in the game and could care less who wins.
The only thing that's made it more tolerable is a long standing tradition. This tradition started before Jake was even born and now that I think about it has gone on just about every year since then. Our yearly visit with "The Bears" AKA the Michael's, has made this day much easier for me. It means I can hang out with a fellow partner in crime and instead of watching the game, enjoy a day of thrift or resale shopping, eat wings and watch a chick flick. I look forward to that. I can swallow this day much easier knowing that our tradition stands year after year, game after game.
So, merry football and happy Super Bowl. Enjoy!