My parents got home late Saturday night from a mission trip to Guadeloupe. The kids went up Sunday afternoon to visit and Dane got caught up in all the Superbowl pre-game excitement. When I called to have the kids sent home for dinner, my father was reluctant and said Dane wanted to stay and watch the game. Sorry, Dad. Bedtime's 7:00.
After dinner, Dane informed me that he was going to spend his last few minutes of awakeness watching the game and asked if I'd come and join him and snuggle. I gladly piled up on the couch in the Den. It brought back memories of years of Superbowl parties and informal gatherings with friends. Don doesn't particularly enjoyed sports but I love to watch a good game - football, baseball, almost anything. For years when I was single, I'd watch the World Series (when the Braves were in it) and keep in touch with my siblings and parents via phone after any good plays. This was the first time I've ever sat to watch the Game with my progeny.
Just as we were preparing to sing the National Anthem, Deanna ran into the Den.
"Who's winning?" she asked. Dane and I looked at each other and started to laugh. We explained that we hadn't even yet reached the kick-off. Deanna plopped on the couch to join us. Before long, Daelyn appeared, as well. We stopped talking just in time for the kick-off.
"Mom," Dane asked just as the ball went into play and we knew the kick-off moment was done, "has it ever happened that the ball was on the 99-yard line?" I explained that there wasn't a 99-yard line, and Dane rephrased his question.
"What about the 1-yard line?"
"Sure, honey," I told him. "And you should see the players try to climb over the opposing team's line-up after the hike to get that one yard and a TD." Dane laughed. I explained further that it happens quite frequently. As if in response to my answer, literally, within seconds, the ball was on the 2-yard line, then the 1. Dane got very excited.
As the tension built, we all found ourselves whooping. When either team made an impressive play, we'd yell and holler. Don, who was working on the computer (paying bills, I think) and being quite patient with us, finally turned around and made some comment about us being loud.
"Well, what do you expect?" I asked. "This is a fabulous game."
Unfortunately, all too soon, 7 p.m. rolled around. I sent the boys into the kitchen around 7:15 to take their medicines. While they were gone, the game went to a commercial break.
"This is the best part of the game, Deanna," I told her. "They charge so much for commercials during the Superbowl that every company trots out their very best commercials. I often like them better than the game."
Again, as if in response to my comment, we began to witness people getting beaten to a pulp - one guy was hit on a course by a swinging golfer not once but twice; another guy was on a ladder replacing a light bulb when someone around the other corner of the house threw the power lever on the power box, sending the ladder guy flying through the air and crashing into a van across the street; a bowler was passing a ball over top of another guy's head who was bending down tying his shoes when the bag breaks and the ball hits him on the neck and head . . . each incident was funnier than the previous one. I can't tell you what the commercial was trying to sell, but Deanna and I shrieked with laughter. That commercial was followed immediately by another equally funny one involving unusual pets - a grandma with an osterich that chases the mailman, someone driving down the road with a wild boar in the backseat sticking his nose out the window . . . We continued to shriek and roll on the couch. Don shook his head. The boys came running in to see what they missed.
I eventually had to send the children off to bed and get my chores done during commercials. What a shame. I missed all the other good commercials.
Last night at dinner we were rehashing some of the fun from Sunday night. From there, we began kidding each other. Dane had gotten up from the table to refill his glass and remarked from the sink,
"You know, Mama, we have a lot of fun together. It's the most fun we have in our lives."
It's true. And while I love every minute of it, it also makes me feel sad for parents that don't have that with their children. Some people's lives are so busy, they never really get to have fun with their children. I know other people who are too uptight to let their children see them having fun. I'm sure there are lots of other reasons people don't enjoy time with their children like Don and me.
But I'm thankful we do. I'm thankful to have children who want to watch the Superbowl with Mom and snuggle on the couch while laughing at commercials. I love watching them smile and sharing their laughter and creating that strong family culture.
As soon as they woke up yesterday morning, they all wanted to know the outcome of the game. I stood in the hallway between the boys' room and Deanna's and told them about the last 5 minutes. At one point, I stepped into Deanna's room with Dane close on my heels, until I heard a scream from Daelyn who was still laying in bed.
"Mama, get back out here in the Hall. I can't see you there and I want to see what you're saying."
Apparently, it's not only about the humor in words. It's also about the animation. But that's another Post.
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