Football.

"We interrupt this marriage, to bring you football season." ~unknown

Truer words have never been spoken. It's not so much, football season, rather FANTASY football season. My sweet husband is currently in no less than five (yes, five) fantasy football leagues. We now have the Sunday ticket, Red Zone channel, and I think my husband is up to three different computers and an Ipad he may watch his fantasy players stats on simultaneously. This is serious business. 

I am not one of those girls that doesn't enjoy sports, or understand them, for that matter. I grew up with two brothers in my house, and a father that attended THE Ohio State University. There were constantly sports in my house growing up, and Superbowl Sunday has always been an event. I understand the love of the game. I love attending any and every type of sporting event, and am glued to the television during all playoffs. The Phoenix SUNS are my team! My husband, during football season, is more or less, a fanatic. Every game, from sunrise to sunset, he is watching. I understand that there is money on the line, but I think it is more than just about winning money or beating his friends in his leagues. He loves all things football. He watches ESPN pre and post game reports, reads articles, constantly looking up player points projections, and is up earlier than anyone should be on Sunday mornings because he is like a kid on Christmas.  He gets more excited about football season than most people do about meeting their first born. But, he is not the only one that this happens to! All of his closest friends, friends he has had for all of his adult life, act the exact same way. My girlfriends and I are officially football season widows. 

They have draft parties. They would like to draft in Vegas. They have message boards, year round jokes (poor Jason), and spend countless hours prepping before that all important draft day. And, oh my goodness, do not bother him on Sundays. Life does not continue, other than on the field, on Sundays. Grocery shopping? No. Cleaning? Nope. Folding laundry? No way. Eating out? Uh uh. Football only. 

Now, don't get me wrong, he is completely present on Saturdays, and will help me with whatever I need. He is excited about something, and as long it's a good day for his fantasy team, it's a good day for him, and therefore, me. I used to look at it as an annoyance, these "Sunday Man Days", but now he is occupied, which means I can find other things to occupy my time. I can go shopping, out to lunch with my girlfriends, mani-pedis, massages. The day is mine, all mine! He won't care what I am doing, as long as I am not blocking the television or somehow preventing the wi-fi from working. I don't have children yet, so I am taking this as my time, until my time is no longer my own. So, a week from Sunday, it begins. Now, I am the one that is excited.