Blank stares, unanswered questions, bags of eaten chips – such is the life of a football-watching wife. It’s football season (again), and even though I know it comes around this time of every year, I’m never completely ready for it. Parish isn’t one of those crazy fans who wears his favorite team’s jersey and sits for hours upon hours watching the games unfold. He does break away for meals at the table, trips to the grocery store and short walks.
He could be worse, but he could be better and not watch a single second of sports, but I knew long before I said, “I do” that he was a sports junkie. He’s so much more than just a guy who likes football, basketball, tennis, the Olympics, track and field, boxing and the Little League World Series. He also cooks, cleans, fills my gas tank when it gets to the halfway mark and does the weekly grocery shopping. Yes, he has a brother, but he’s married, Sorry ladies.
But for the next four months, I will have to deal with the countless games that flash across the screen. I really only have this animosity against football – I like watching basketball ,and live baseball games are on my favorite to do list. It comes down to the fact that I don’t understand football, even though I have asked thousands of questions. Parish has done his best to answer them, after I ask them about three or four times. But I still don’t why some hits are OK and some require a flag and how many downs it takes to score and why some players wear pads and others do not.
When the NFL season officially started last weekend, I took a stack of books and headed to the pool. After being married for over four years and together for almost nine, I know when to leave him alone in all the glowing football glory. I strolled down to the pool and read through a few books. The sun was absolutely vibrant and I instantly relaxed. I’m not sure what I’m going to do when the pool closes…
By the time I walked up the three flights of stairs back to our apartment, I had a nice glow and Parish was starting to make dinner. Football players were still running across the flat screen, but how can you berate a man who is making sure you don’t go hungry? I’ve learned to pick my battles, so I smile and say, “That sure smells good! Who’s winning?”
And to furthermore prove that he’s not football obsessed, Parish is taking his parents and me to Memphis and Tunica for the weekend. We make this trip at least once a year and even though I don’t gamble, I relish being with my family and hitting the open road.
Beale St. is such a great, chill place. I’m already planning on ordering a hurricane and walking around the dazzling street. Last time we went, there was live music playing at the open-air stage and people were just relaxed and friendly. There was also an impromptu Corvette show, which only made the street more colorful and fun to be on.
The trip is in celebration of Parish’s mom and dad’s anniversary. It’s also his dad’s birthday, so it’s a double whammy of a celebration and we always have a great time. Happy anniversary Jerry and Ruth and thank you for raising such a good kid who knows how to balance life and sports…most of the time. And, happy birthday Jerry, I hope you hit the big one so you can send me on a five-month cruise.