My girls don't understand how I can watch football. They see it as a bunch of guys running around on a field trying to catch each other. It's the same people doing the same things over and over again.
This how a typical Saturday and Sunday afternoon go in our household:
"Daddy, I don't want to watch football," says big sister, as she flips the station.
"Too bad, you watch cartoons all week and all I want to do is see the Colts," I explain, as I cradle the remote, keeping it safe from prying hands.
Big sister stomps off to toture Little sister into screaming so I have to go and take care of her instead of watching the Game.
I don't think I've seen an entire game since the day of Big sister's birth. It was opening weekend when we went to the hospital. Tampa Bay was playing the year after they won the Super Bowl. Stephanie said no football, but she was so drugged up laying in that hospital bed I could have put anything on and she wouldn't have known the difference.
At least it was a good game.
That's all right though, I decided a long time ago that time with my family is a lot more important than a football game. And besides with my new Internet phone I can still get the scores.
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