Superbowl Sunday

I am not an American football fan.  (Or any kind of football fan for that matter.) Outside of watching the entire series of Friday Night Lights in a single summer, and still claiming it to be the best television drama series ever created, I don't really watch football.  If football is on the television I will most certainly turn it off. (Unless Tim Riggins is the one doing the tackling - love that guy and his dangerous attitude.)

But, I love Superbowl Sunday.  I love 10 different dishes, all made with Velveeta and something to dip in it.  I love everyone showing up in their jeans and sweatshirts.  I love the sound of beer bottles being opened and kids playing in the other room.  I love that no matter who was playing, we would most definitely feel the warmth of our friends all in one space.

I can picture it now.  Becky would talk through the whole game, but nobody would care because her conversation is what makes us us...  except for her brother Ben - who may be the only one there that is taking the game seriously.  He would be sitting in his leather reclining sofa with a cup holder for his beer and the remote in his hand so he has control over the volume.  I would inevitably ask who was playing after the first quarter, and Dustin would roll his eyes at me and wonder why he had to marry the only person in the world that didn't know who was playing in the Superbowl before we got to the party.  Mark would say something funny that would make me laugh, and Andrew would follow it up with his quiet humor that I love.  That guy laughs with his whole body.  The other Becky would bring snickerdoodles, and I would eat about 5 too many.  Marissa would have a whole spread of food out on her dining room table upstairs.  Her cat would huddle in the corner threatening to attack my feet the minute I let my guard down.  Our kids would be behind us in the toy room playing.

Is it any wonder why I love Superbowl Sunday?  This is what I envisioned while I tucked myself into bed last night. This is what I dreamed was happening back in Illinois as I tried to explain to people here how I can ignore football, but love this game.

There are times when I forget where our home is.  Then I remember Superbowl Sunday.