1997 was the last time that I got to watch the Super Bowl with my sons. Eleven long years ago that seem like last week.
We were all still living in Columbus, Ohio and it was a good day to be a cheese head. I don’t know which one of us decided that we needed to root for the Packers, but after a lengthy discussion (2-3 minutes, if my memory serves me) we decided that to be true fans we need cheese heads.
Thus we set off in the truck to find a store that sold foam in big enough chunks that we could make cheese heads out of. We never did find the foam, but we had one hell of a time in the search. The boys and I always had great times when we were together. We played, we wrestled, and we laughed. We laughed a lot. That isn’t to say that there weren’t bad time either. There were. There were the times that my eldest wouldn’t do his homework. And would sit at the dining room table. Just sitting there. And there were the times that the youngest would get into squabbles with the neighborhood kids. Hoodlums was more like it, but the youngest was always Mr. Sociable with pretty much anyone.
I know that we had too much junk food, and soda that day. I know that we probably felt like we were going to yak at any given point in time. That was one bone of contention between their Mother and I. She always felt that I fed them too much junk food. And I probably did. Hell, I ate too much junk food. And still do, if I have the chance. But it was a good day.
Later that year, I married MLW and moved to Pennsylvania, started a life with her and The Princess. We still watch the Super Bowl. But we don’t eat as much junk food. I am on a diet, MLW is very alert to what she is eating, and The Princess is caught in between the two of us. Poor kid. Though I have the onerous honor of being the one to have introduced her to bagels and cream cheese. And soda. Don’t forget soda.
And let us not forget about RavenSparkle out in Phoenix. This daughter of mine, the eldest of all of my children, has stuck by me for all of her 24 years. Even during the teenage years when she was not real happy with her life out there, and not real happy with her Father out here. She is the one that is on the phone to me pretty much every week. She is a good kid. Love her dearly. Can’t wait to see her the first week in March when I am jetting out west to spend some time with her and at least one of her brothers. I would like it to be both brothers, but the youngest one tends to plan things by the seat of his skinny ass pants. Did you talk to your Mother yet, Pierce? When I get to AZ we are going to go to the Ren Faire out there, seeing as I didn’t budget my time correctly for the one that is here every Fall. It will be like going to a Templar encampment out in the desert during the Crusades. At least that is my story, and it is romantic enough for me to hang on to it for dear life.
Though, you will not be seeing me wandering around in a suit of armor. More like a pair of shorts, and my Tevas. Love my Tevas. Love any shoe that lets my toes run rampant. I will probably have to take the eldest son his Croc sandals. He left them at the shore last year when he and his girlfriend came to spend some time with the rest of us. I won’t be sorry to see those sandals go. They just aren’t as comfortable as my Tevas. Have I mentioned how much I like my Tevas? Yeah, I probably have.
At this time of the day, it looks like the Super Bowl will be between Green Bay, and The Patriots. I don’t know which team I will be rooting for. I don’t know if we will be looking for foam for cheese heads or what. What I do know is that I will be thinking about a day eleven years ago. When the soda flowed like water, and the junk food was manna from the Gods.
Oops. Score update, the Giants just scored again. It is now 20 – 17 with the Giants in the lead at the start of the 4th quarter. I wish that I was watching this on TV instead of getting updates from my cell phone. It just isn’t the same to be filling the bread and getting a score text message.
Namaste.
