Football Football Rah! Rah! Rah!

Our lives have been consumed lately with a new family hobby, FOOTBALL. We have never been people who purchase tickets to sporting events, watch sports on TV or feel the need to know the score of games; let alone understand the rules and finner points of how the games are played. Don't get me wrong, my husband is a manly man and I am not against watching men in tight pants pile on each other, but it has just not been our "thing". Until we signed our child up for football. How quickly we became those bloodthirsty fans. Discussing football pads, jock straps and screaming for total aggression on the field is now routine . I never thought of myself as the mother who would yell for my child to "pound" another child "into the ground", but that is what I have become. I find myself yelling things I never imagined yelling in public. "KICK THEIR TRASH" and "HIT SOMEBODY!" are not things I am proud to admit to yelling, but I have. Something overcomes us when we are watching our kid out there, running and sweating and being such a boy. We have been sucked in completely. Now we look at those games on TV and understand a little bit of what the half dressed, painted men are feeling. Even though I do draw the line at stripping to the waist and painting a purple "R" on my chest.