Couldn’t we have at least named the sport something original?

I’ve heard there is an important game of sportsball on today. Rowan says #keeppounding. I don’t even know what that means. His middle name is a tribute to my best friend Steven, who, in a complete and reckless disregard for gay stereotypes is a huge Panthers fan.

Superbowl comes at the front end of my least favorite month, and I can’t muster even a low level of enthusiasm for watching people give themselves brain injuries.

Zach is watching strangers play video games, complete with commentary.  He may have found the one thing even more boring than football.

I thought it would be a great idea to go to Target just before game time, hoping it would be less crowded. My logic was sound, but I lost points for taking Lorelei with me.  Protip – Taking a five year old to Target has never been a good idea.  Ever.  Target is for overwhelmed mothers to escape their children and secretly eat Otis Spunkmeyer cookies, not torture themselves as their offspring channel their inner Caillou.

Oh but it gets worse.  She fell asleep on the drive, and I’m not sure she’d had lunch. I took a tired and hungry kid into Target.  Am I new here?  I saw the warning signs – the inability to control her excitement over a fuzzy coat that “looks like wearing the cat”, the inner pinball that propelled her from rack to rack, and finally the checkout line candy. That’s when it happened.  We were so close to getting out of there, but the allure of the sour candy and my refusal to buy it pushed her over the edge.  She collapsed with her head against the conveyor belt.  By the time we got in the car it was clear that I was ruining her life, that I never think about her feelings, and that nobody likes her anyhow.

I think it’s bedtime. For me.

Instead, I have to go glue 100 jewels onto a piece of poster board because they aren’t sticking on their own. Why is the 100th day of school a thing? Could we at least let it be a replacement to Valentine’s? I can barely manage the energy to get out of bed in February, I can’t handle two “exciting” days in one week.

Besides, I have my own projects to do.  More on that later….