I have no legitimate claim to being a Saints fan, but you know, the Superbowl rolls around and for the sake of party planning you pick a side. We decided to be Saints fans.
Partly because of a brief internship I did in Baton Rouge several years ago. Mostly because of the food.
And also because dressing my kids up like drunken Mardi Gras revelers amuses me.
We all got into the spirit.
I declared dough kneading to be my fifteen minute workout for the day.
When he saw me trying to chop onions with my eyes closed, Ryan said he would take over for the second one, then disappeared to the garage and returned with a pair of souvenir "Ford" safety goggles he got on a field project.
When they sang the National Anthem on TV Charlie ran and got our flag out of the coat closet then stood in front of the TV and waved it so fiercely he almost impaled Wes with the eagle on top. Proud little American.
Labmama and her family came over for jambalaya and King Cake before the game. Because the game was on too late for the kids. I live in the CENTRAL TIME ZONE, friends. Charlie was asleep by 6:30. Wes wasn't far behind. I got all my labs graded during the third quarter, watched the Saints wrap it up in the fourth, and still have an hour or so before I turn back into a pumpkin. A pretty good Sunday night, I'd say!