"It's just a game hun!", "Seriously Casey, it's just a game." It's a chant that I repeat all evening during the g
ames. What exactly is it about men and football? It's a bunch of grown men throwing a ball around rolling in
the mud all for a game. Meanwhile the men at home are sitting on the edges of their recliners, with random burst of yelling at the tv acting as if everything happening on the screen is a life-or-death situation. All the while the wives, girlfriends, sisters and in some cases even mothers are all patiently waiting for their over excitable men to finish watching the game and return to reality. That's how it is here at Triple Pines tonight. The Buffalo Bills are playing the Kansas City Chiefs, Casey is hanging off the edge of his seat and I'm sitting here praying for the clock to run out so he will do chores. It just so happens that I suffer from a disorder that cold temperatures will not agree with. On these days of negative temps my husband, bless his soul, takes over chores to allow me to avoid issues. Tonight, however is a night of Goats vs. Football. Every commercial break my husband flies to the barn to attempt to do some more of the chores and get back before the next play. Thank g
oodness my girls are quick milkers right now otherwise they would be miserable. Casey has been out a total of 14 times to get chores done and I have been told there is still a little to do. My job is to sit and watch the game and fill in my husband on what happened while he was gone. I hate football but, since he is doing chores, I have to force myself to watch the game. It is quite a comical thing to watch. I feel like I should be an announcer on the radio for the race. It's a commercial break, and Casey is up! He is out of the chair, pulling on his boots, going around the bend, slipping sliding down to the barn. We have a few minutes of anxious silence, and he's back at the barn door, coming up over the hill, into the house, door slamming, right boot off, hopping on one foot across the kitchen, and the left boot is off, jumping the baby gate into the living room, back to the chair, He takes a breath "Lilly is milked what happen?" and he's done it ladies and gentlemen! Casey has beat the clock and he has made it back in time for the next amazing play and the fans go wild! It's not a matter of being worried about my chores being done well or correctly because I know without a doubt that they are, but rather a worry that my husband is going to end up hurt because he is trying to hurry! There are
times I just want to yell at him "Record the game!" Get the chores done early and then no worries!" Sometimes I think that my husband looks at the " chore race" as a challenge that cannot be ignored. Therefore, regardless of my feelings on the matter the race continues. A total of fifteen trips to the barns and the chores are done. Finally, he can watch the game! No interruptions are needed any more, and then our five-year-old wants his daddy to sleep with him. Perfect timing! I look into the living room and there I watch something magical happen. My husband scoops up his son in his arms and for two seconds the world revolves around the two of them and I think that it's a perfect loving moment that our son who once was terrified of us when he came to us as a foster child, is now asking for his "daddy" to sleep with him. Lost in the memories of a scared little boy becoming the absolute lov
e bug he is now I am jerked back to reality when I hear them BOTH yelling at the TV because we are headed to overtime! They aren't headed back to bed. That little boy is sitting right there next to his daddy learning the " man's game" as my husband calls it. I give up! I give in! Football one and Goats (and everything else) zero! I laugh in spite of it all. All I see in my future now is my husband and my son both running to do chores in the comical "Chore race". At least with two of them doing them they will get done in half the time! I'm off to bed with the comfort of knowing that chores are done, my son will be tucked back into bed by his daddy, eventually, and things will return to normal by midnight tonight. At least until the next game that is. The only thing new that I have learned from this experience is that I will be doing chores Super Bowl Sunday. Keep fostering love my dear readers! Goodnight and God Bless.
P.S. Buffalo Bills lost to the Kansas City Chiefs 36-42 , Both my husband and son went to bed depressed, and no goats or farm animals were harmed in the viewing of this football game. However the final outcome of the "Great Chore Race" will be decided tomorrow morning when my girls will be anxiously waiting in the stalls to see if the crazy running man will be doing chores or if the laid-back calm momma will come to their rescue. I am thinking that maybe, just maybe the girls will be relieved to see me in the morning. LOL
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