Grab a chair and a couple of root beers...

I am not watching the Superbowl. This is because I am that rare anomaly in Texas... I don't like football.

*ducks*

Yeah, yeah, I know, unbelievable. And I was even in marching band and all, right? *laughs* Well, I have to say, our high school football team was... lousy. Once, to raise money for charity, the different organizations at my high school had a football tournament. Did the football team win? You'd think so. You'd think they'd be sure things, right? Wrong. The marching band won. We stomped the football team into the ground, 30-something to 3, and the 3 points were pity points. Our football team was so bad that everyone left games after half-time, because they came to see the band, not the football team. We actually made up a... well, anti-cheer would be the word, I guess. "L-O-S-E-R, yes that's what we are, losers, losers, YAAAYY!!!"

It was rather disheartening.

Anyhow, no, I am not a huge football fan. The Husbandly One is, though, and while sometimes, I have been in the same room with him while he watches a game (because he wants me to hang out with him for some togetherness time), I don't generally watch. Mostly, I'm either curled up next to him with my nose buried in a book, or my eyes are closed and I have my iPod on, or I'm crocheting. Or sewing. Or working on a project. Or writing. Anything but watching the game.

Tonight, though... nah, just... didn't want to do it. And I'm annoyed, because I'm trying to read Inkheart, and Miss Priss was holding the book for me yesterday, and took my things away from me when we were going into the house, and she put them away and thus has no idea where they are. Damn, and it was just getting interesting, too!

So, I cleaned off the computer desk, which was beyond cluttered, and I chatted with my mom on the phone, and tried to work on a few of my writing projects...

All while being regularly interrupted by the people I love.

I do love them. Really. I really do. Just because I want to strangle them at odd intervals does not decrease my love for them. Really.

Did I mention that I love them?

And I am SOOOOO looking forward to this week, because Miss Priss is trying out for track, and she is already nervous, and I know she's going to have a monster fit of the heebie-jeebies each night before the events she's going to try out for. *rolls eyes* She had been upset because she didn't think she could try out for sprinter because she just isn't fast enough, and after listening to all the reasons she didn't think she would make the track team period, I finally said, "Er... but... hon? It's not all sprinting. Remember? There's a lot of long distance running in there too, and..."

"But, whenever we're working on the long distance stuff, everyone passes me up!"

"For how long?"

She blinked. "Er... well, at first!"

"I see. And at the end? Are they all still ahead of you?"

"Well, no. A lot of them sort of... well... they have to stop because... they're all tired. I usually finish second or third..."

"Hmmm, imagine that." And then I nodded as I listened to her explain to me why those fast girls weren't able to maintain their leads, and why she finished so close to the lead... I know, I know, I'm evil, but I do so LOVE to watch my kids' faces when they get exasperated with my questions, and have to explain a situation to stupid old Mama, and then lo, and behold, answer their own questions. And then get mad at me for "tricking" them. Hey, it worked for Socrates, I figure it should work for me at least half as well, right?

So anyway, I then suggested again that she try out for the long distance running, and she again said, "Oh, no, I can't do that..."

I got rather exasperated and said, "My very dear idiot, for the last three years, you have been playing on soccer teams that have barely had enough players to have maybe one or two substitutes a game. And sometimes not even that. You have played the entire game with no breaks. That's a thirty minute half each, some of which you were running almost non-stop. Right?"

She blinked. "Er... right."

"Honey," I said in a softer tone. "I think you can handle the long-distance and possibly the cross-country running. Just... think about it."

So, she did, and now she's more enthusiastic about it, but that doesn't prevent her from getting the willies at the thought of try-outs. She said, "At least if I'm trying out for soccer, I know what to expect, and what I'm doing!"

Well, I have every confidence in her. She's gonna rock their socks off, totally!

Now, if I could just find Inkheart... or Gregor the Overlander... or maybe even What Mrs. McGillicuddy Saw!...