On Super Bowl, Snow, and Sleds

The bad news is the Super Bowl. And that ain’t nothin’ compared to the good news.

Eldest is a fan of the football game, particular the Steelers, which is a team, but also the Bears. His love of that team is genetic, passed from Mother, who hails from Bear-ville, but most especially from Grandpa, with whom Eldest watched many hours of football whilst Mother and Father cavorted in sin city.

Aside: Eldest is tossing the old pigskin to himself as I type this, in flagrant violation of various paternal injunctions, and I am as distracted by the tossing as I am by his enormous hair.



Aside 2: Youngest insists that I take his picture as well, and I choose to set his hair on fire to do it.



Aside 3: Eldest informs me, after reading this, that he is a bigger Bears fan than Steelers fan. This is, I think, revisionist history, perhaps in the hopes of a greater inheritance from Grandpa.

End of Asides.

When there is a football contest we wish to watch as a family – and there aren’t that many, that just isn’t how we roll, as they say - we do a pretty pleasant little shindig, with hot wings and barbecue wings and nine-layer dip (well, four or five layers of a nine-layer dip, but I’m not complaining) and lots of chips and ice cream and blankets on the floor. Also, later in the game, lots of laughter, and groaning from mother, as we enjoy the fruits and toots of the bean dip, a happy family healthy as manatees.

The game was fun to watch, the commercials okay, with the following family favorites:

Daughter: Doritos
Eldest: Bud Light “Rock Paper Scissors”
Youngest: “Ask me my favorite! Ask me my favorite!”
“Okay. What was your favorite?”
“Rock Paper Scissors too!”

Mother: Snickers
Father: Robert Goulet

So, guess what? The Bears stunk, losing after an amazing start in much the same was as the Buckeyes did, if with less humiliation.

Eldest was despondent, and spirits were low.

And then we got news that school was closed the next day. Wind chill, it seems.

And yea, the spirits were lifted, and there was much rejoicing. And up-late staying.

But do we dare hope for two days in a row? No, that would be greedy.

And we got two days in a row.

The first day, we hung around the house, eventually driving each other crazy, until Alex’s evening Soccer game got us out and about. But the second day, we got it right, without Mother, sadly, as her meetings were not cancelled. Breakfast at the kids' favorite place – Youngest pronounces it “Bob’s Evan,” and then, on the coldest day of the year, we went swimming. As did everyone who didn’t have school – at one point you couldn’t see water. We had much fun, and then, a late lunch at BD Barbecue, a favorite of Daughter’s. By now, the snow was really coming down. Do we dare hope for. . . no, we don’t dare. But we did camp out in front of a fire and watch Lord of the Rings, or at least the first three hours of it. This could be called irresponsible parenting, but Daughter loved it, as did Youngest, though he hid his eyes occasionally. No nightmares.

I realize that non-teachers might find it hard to understand, but going back to school after a snow day is kind of hard. You get greedy. And we were greedy. As I lay in bed before the alarm went off, I was dreading going back to work in a way that is completely unfair to the rest of the working world. The alarm went off, I sighed, and Mother turned on the TV.

You know.

Just in case.

HA!

You know, as nice as it is to find out about a snow day (or “really frickin’ cold” day) the night before, to stay up late and not set the alarm at all, it is really great, even better, to be surprised in the morning.

Today? First, omelets and pancakes. Then, another hour of the Rings trilogy (Extended Edition!) Then: Sledding!

Mother is not a fan, but she came along so that she could see first hand the limb loss that concerned her. But then guess what? No injuries! Sort of. And who was the biggest sledding beast? Guess.

After going down the hill with me – a pretty good hill, at a local State Park – Youngest wanted to go by all by his own self. Father was gleeful, Mother less so. After his second run, Youngest got crushed by another sled. (We sort of skipped the whole “be sure to get out of the way of other sleds” part of his training.) As responsible parents, we didn’t see him get hit. Mother and I were laughing-all-the-way on a sled run of our own, Parents-of-the-Year Award Number 421. By the time we got to him, the park ranger was already checking his vitals – she was a dramatic type: “Can you move your head?” she asked. “Can you take deep breaths?” To which Youngest responded, through his tears, “Can I go again?”

And now, the evening. Another fire, a Papa Murphy’s pizza (recommended!), another hour or so of Lord of the Rings, and, realistically, no hope of another day off. That would just be greedy. Greedier.

I would love to share with you pictures and tales of Daughter as an indoor soccer star, and Eldest as a star of stage, but Middle Earth is on, loudly, and I need a break. Writing this is the most work I’ve done in days.