Our Super Bowl Parrrrrrrrrrtay!- Fail.

The babes and I may not be the most ideal Super Bowl watching buddies, but we sure did try. .. Well, we had the right attitude.  At first.

I tried to “man up” a little and be “one of the guys” for the day, and while I think I did pretty good in some areas, I failed miserably in

others.

While I didn’t go all out in the food department, I did put together some appetizers and threw dinner in the crockpot so that at least it felt somewhat like a parrrrrrrrrtay.

But this is where I failed a little bit…

Me: “What are you eating!?”

Hubby: “Triscuits, why?”

Me: “Don’t be eating Trisuits when I have all this food coming soon!”

Hubby: “Oh. Okay………. Just so you know, my buddies wouldn’t take away my Trscuits. They’d be like, ‘What are you eating? Oh, Triscuits? Let me get some of those!'”

Me: Laughing- “Oh. Well they probably wouldn’t have made all this food!”

Hubby: “Yeah they would have.

Me: “Yeah, you’re right.”

And the afternoon continued like a pretty normal day with diapers, lunch, toys and tent parties until it was nap time.

And during nap time The Hubbs and I really buddied it up as he tried  talking to me about players, coaches and things going on in the NFL right now.

Hubby: So this coach and that coach are brothers and …………………………………………………………………

He lost my attention from there. I heard what he was saying but I was so tired at  this point and the couch felt so good that I was drifting off to sleep.

I did hear him say his buddies would definitely not be falling asleep while the Super Bowl was starting as drool escaped down my left cheek.

Well the first half of the game was pretty boring and I can honestly say I didn’t watch one play during the entire thing. I was pretty excited for half-time, though, as I think everyone else at our parrrrrrrtay  was too. It was then I got back into my “one of the guys” mode.

Hubby: “I can’t wait to see the half-time show. I heard Jay Z  is performing with Beyonce, and possibly Kanye, too.

Me: “Fo sho, bro.”

Hubby: “It’s nice seeing a real mom perform, not some young thing.”

Me: (In the back of my mind I’m thinking, ‘Beyonce, a REAL mom!? I don’t know many moms like Beyonce…’) “Totally, bro.”

Hubby: “I bet she has to pump before AND after her performance.”

Me: Laughing “Awe yeah, totes, bro.”

And during her entire performance, there I sat on the ground in my yoga pants, spaghetti stained shirt and ratted ponytail with an open-mouth as I watched Beyonce roll around like a sex-kitten in her leathery dominatrix outfit as she completely worked the stage.

Someone really liked the performance…

And that’s when I’d had enough and took Gwyn out of there to the nearest ice-cream shop to indulge in candy pieces topped with ice cream and we also shared a cupcake.

And it felt goooooood.

We even sat in front of the fire and drank copious amounts of water from the water jug that Gwyn insisted on refilling over and over and over, just to kill time.

 

When we returned home the game had just resumed from the power outage and if I am being honest I was a total sour-puss. I scanned the room, overwhelmed by the scattered toys and messy kitchen and immediately went to town in clean-up mode. I wasn’t very fun to be around. Like, at all. And when The Hubby would ask me to watch a certain funny or inspiring commercial I would just nod and say things like “Yep. Nice” and continue with what I was doing.

Soooooo not a bro anymore.

More like a bra. A double E, non-supportive bra. I was basically droopy boobs.

I started to feel bad once the house was clean and I could finally breathe, though.

We got the kids to bed and both sat down to finish the fourth quarter, which was actually exciting to watch now.

The game ended, not as we had hoped, and The Hubby fell asleep on the couch soon after.

Pretty exciting stuff, eh?

This is how we paaaaaaaartay!

Happy Monday!