The Super Bowl starts at 1:30 am Monday morning in Cairo. I discovered last year that this circumstance is an awesome opportunity to impart NFL culture to my children. For better or worse, I am almost as eager to pass on a legacy of enjoying American football as I am to pass on the legacy of my religious faith. Indeed, football is practically a religion. Some might say you could remove "practically" from that sentence. I digress.
Staying up all night, to my kids, is just about the coolest thing they can imagine. So if I let them stay up all night, one time per year, to watch the Super Bowl A) they will watch the Super Bowl, 2) they will think the Super Bowl is awesome, and b) they will think I am awesome. There was a subtle homage to Home Alone right there, for those who care.
We went to a friend's house to watch via their Slingbox so we could enjoy the commercials. We only have Armed Forces Network on which the commercials consist of PSAs reminding soldiers that sexual assault during motor pool is not appropriate, which was news to me.
Caleb was cheering for the Broncos. About two minutes into the second quarter he said, "Did I mention that actually, secretly, I was really cheering for the Seahawks all along?"
I did not take Henry to the party. He slept through the night. This was per Katie's request. So when he awoke to discover the game and party were over, he was mad. I entertained the idea of taking one for the team, for about three seconds, then I realized my great opportunity to enhance my status vis a vis Katie and also teach the importance of always telling the truth no matter what.
"Sorry, buddy. That was mom's idea. I wanted to wake you up, but she said no." Broncos lost. Dad won.
