It's been, oh, 12 years I think since I last watched the Super Bowl. This would have been the 13th abstention, but since we were invited to a Super Bowl Par-tay, how could I blind myself to the throws and sprints of big men in brightly-colored spandex pants?
The important thing about tonight was not that the Steelers won (the Seahawks should have been able to pull it together, but that makes me sound like I know a little bit about football and that I might almost like it). The important thing was that I was able to go to a normal-sized house, sit on a normal-sized couch, eat really spicy chicken wings, and drink normal beer. There were three large couches flanking the living room, plenty of seats for the 12-or-so spectators. There were dogs running underfoot...not miniature dogs that are easily squashed, but honest-to-goodness bulldogs and rottweilers and other shaggy beasts. We had chicken wings and hotdogs (although since I have already filled my hotdog quota of the month at Costco I refrained from indulging). I made brownies (hazlenut and chocolate chip) and someone else brought iced football-shaped butter cookies. There was hot artichoke dip and chips and pretzels and other nibblies. For me, the evening was less about football and more about having a regular evening at someone's normal-sized house, which had a bathroom sink I didn't have to stoop over to wash my hands. I ate food that I miss (Ken and I did a short two hour hike earlier so I almost feel like I earned those chicken wings). And I was able to bake brownies in a real oven, which totally makes all the difference...they were gooey and chocolatey and not the least bit overcooked.
And it sure beats spending 8 hours cramped in a seat with not enough leg room hurtling across the Pacific.
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