All the talk on Facebook yesterday was about football. As a person raised in a sports-free household, I’m a little at a loss to decode all these all-caps shouts about this and that team and fumbling jumbling tacky helmet tomfoolery. Keep in mind that my parents once gamely accepted an invitation to a Superbowl party and then drew open-mouthed stares by politely asking, upon arrival, who was playing. Your understanding of the seriousness of this offense will be improved by hearing that we lived in Minnesota and the Vikings were one of those two teams.
But lest you think I am dooming my two sons to a lifetime of unAmerican anti-sports behavior, I submit exhibit A.
Stretching time. He’s a flexy McFlexerson, isn’t he? He’s, like, SO aware it’s time for sports.
I mean, lots of people could get into this position (see – I know sports talk). But could they sleep that way?
Cormac is ready to bring his
A Game N Game (for Naps, of course). He’s going to pay close attention to his coach couch and. er…disrupt the opposing furniture’s offense… and run the football in his dreams. That’s all you need to know for one of these sports competitions, right?
Next stop, plenty of insults about apple pie. You can always count on me.