She actually turned the channel to the big game. For all of five seconds. Didn’t even see one famous-for-being-funny commercial. And tuned out long before Tom Petty at halftime.
When I asked her if she wanted to watch, she responded, “Actually, I think I just want to watch Scooby Doo.” So much for having at least one football fan in the family.
So, instead of the Super Bowl, our evening show consisted of Sophie and Chloe dancing silly around the dining room table. Frankly, an infinitely more entertaining way to spend a Sunday night than watching a bunch of big guys tackle one another.
Go Giants! Oops – I mean, Go Girls!
Pardon me for feeling a bit nostalgic today. It’s my 39th birthday. With only one more year to go before the big 40, I’ve been thinking about my youth a little more than usual. Spending a lot of time with Chloe and Sophie over the last few months has also caused increased reminiscing on my part, to be sure.
As I’ve mentioned in a couple of my recent blog entries, my husband and I are making a Herculean effort to have nice dinners as a family. At times, we succeed quite well. Other times, we fail miserably.