Let me preface this by saying what we have done for the Super Bowl the past, oh, since I can remember, hardly passes as a party by most people’s standards.
I haven’t enjoyed an adult beverage during the big game (or at all) since Brett Favre John Elway was playing quarterback, which if you’re scoring at home was Super Bowl XXXII (that means thirty-two, kids).
And even in the years when she’s not gestating, Megan tends to stay pretty tame during the Super Bowl, which historically happens on what we call a “school night,” meaning she has to be up before the dawn to get ready for work.
So, no, we aren’t accustomed to partying hard, and yet it appears the low-key gathering we have planned today will be about the wildest Super Bowl we’ll experience for quite some time; as we learned from our friend Morgan, “baby’s sleep schedule must be maintained above all else!,” which is problematic when the game starts in the early evening and lasts approximately 7 hours after all the commercials are squeezed into the broadcast.
With that in mind, I might just get a little wild and crazy tonight. I might have a burger AND a dog, and who knows how much Diet Mountain Dew. Look out!