I can’t wait for the Super Bowl (to be over).
Sunday family day? I’m not sure I remember what that is.
What used to be an early-to-rise, out to breakfast, visit family and friends with the kiddos kind of day, has now become a wonderful 12-hour stretch with demands that often include one or more of the following: “Babe, get me a soda; Babe, order some lunch; Babe, I think the kids need a nap; Babe, we can’t go there – it’s Sunday.”
My children and I have become prisoners of the National Football League, and I cannot wait for parole in only one week.
And don’t even get me started on the possibility of extending this torture to an 18-week season. Ugh.
On the bright side, I am looking forward to the commercials.