Ah ... Superbowl Sunday

First, a moment of silence for the absent-Cowboys (and the non-induction of Michael Irvin into the Hall of Fame thanks to those idiotic, biased East coast sportswriters)

I love Superbowl Sunday. Heck, I love football period. And baseball. Hockey, too. But not basketball. Blech, how boring. But I find all the stuff they do for the game to be nearly as interesting as the game and the commericals themselves. Anyone notice how some of the absolute best writing these days is usually found in beer commercials? I mean, come on, the guy at Budweiser who hijacked the miller lite ref commercials is a genius! And raise your hand if you still answer the phone sometimes with a whazzzupppp? :)

Some of the fun things to do until the game include watching all the marathons the other channels show. This year someone (not sure who) is doing America's Funniest Home Videos. An homage to American idiocy, ingenuity and downright silliness (which the world could use some more of). After watching a spot that involved some poor guy tangled up in the rings while trying to do a dismount on the gymnastics side, my mom told me a similar story about my brother when he was about 6 or so. Apparently, we were swinging, he was wearing a coat and wrapped his hands around the chain, then tucked them into his pockets. I, darling two year old that I am, am swinging next to him.
Back and forth. Back and forth. He's kicking the leaves with his feet, I'm just swaying. He swings faster and faster until suddenly... flip! Poor kid goes butt over feet and ends up hanging upside down on the swing. Stuck because his hands are tangled up in his pockets.
Back and forth. Back and forth. He's now sweeping the leaves with his head, I'm just swaying.
Mom looks out the back window and sees all of this happen. After she finishes laughing, she comes out to rescue him.
Ah, family, aren't they great?!

Speaking of family, my kid keeps bugging me to put something on here about him again. tsk, tsk, careful what you ask for Connor.

We recently found a huge stash of videotapes that we took from the time he was born until the camera broke when he was about 5. Poor thing, nothing since then. He's so neglected ... oh wait, you haven't seen the thousands of digital camera files we have of him!

Anyway, one of these tapes just follows Connor around the house. He's about four. Getting into things, talking (he's ALWAYS talking!), stuffing a pillow, mooning the camera.

Huh? I rewound the tape and watched it again. Sure enough, in about a 90 second spot, there's his little hiney, pjs dropped, wagging in the air and Grandma is taping all the while telling him to pull his britches up. Connor looks around, grins and says "take a picture of my butt!" He then proceeds to wiggle it again. When asked where he learned to do that, he says "from Steve."

Now, if you know my family, you probably know Little Steve Welborn. And his affinity for dropping his drawers any and everywhere! what's a mother to do?

Thank goodness I haven't seen that particular full moon in quite a few years - and no Steve, that's not an invitation!!

Well, it's back to getting ready for the Superbowl. Go Pats! I don't care if Philadelphia is in our league, they absolutely can not win this game!!!