"Poppy, is football important to you?" she sat beside him on the sofa as she asked this. "Poppy, who is more important to you? Me or football?" and as I listened, I wondered how many years would pass before she became a weekend widow and spent the seasons' weekends doing what football widows do.
"Honey, I'm going shopping." she sang out as she opened the door and headed for the car. He absently nodded, his eyes never straying from the television. Some weekends I portray the weekend widow and sometimes I participate by watching.
It's a Monday night football game here tonight and I'm watching. I haven't watched the whole game. I slept through much of it and caught the last half. Houston was behind 21 points and caught up. In the last 60 seconds of the game, they tied it up with a touch down and a two point conversion. Exciting to watch the underdog fight their way back.
Overtime. Baltimore won the toss. Played out their downs. Houston's ball. Houston threw an interception for a touch down ran by Baltimore. Game!
The evening began by the husband watching the game in the living room while I escaped to the bedroom to find something to watch on that televison. I settled onto the bed and surfed the channels, settled on a show and promptly fell asleep.
When I woke up the television was tuned to the Baltimore/Houston football game and the husband had the remote control firmly in his grip. It was either wrestle him for it or watch the game.
I never regained control of this televison. From that game to the Vikings and Giants game, I'm pulling the covers over my head and shutting down this laptop. I'll hit "publish" and be done for the night.