This morning when the sun peeked through the slats of the window-blinds in my bedroom, I groaned. Why was I so tired? I need not have asked that question since I already knew the answer. The culprit was the Super Bowl. Well, maybe more accurately, the ones who conceived the idea of making that event into a party.
Super Bowl games have never been a priority in my life. Actually, I have never watched a Super Bowl game. That means I missed the infamous “wardrobe malfunction” and I don’t know which companies have millions of dollars to spend on thirty-second ads. So, unless a high school family member is out there on the field and I’m sitting in the bleachers holding my breath and praying he doesn’t get hurt, football games just aren’t a part of my life.
My dislike of football may account for the fact that, in the past, I have not received invitations to Super Bowl Parties. It makes me feel much better about myself to believe this rather than to think my presence isn’t desired. So, this year when I was invited to my very first ever Super Bowl Party, I was ecstatic. Well, at least to share the evening with friends.
Etiquette and expectations for a football party were a mystery to me. However, I did find Super Bowl Party etiquette guidelines on the internet. The main guideline, I discovered, was to “be cheerful and pleasant at all times.” Check! I could do that.
I’m sure I must have felt like a high school freshman headed off to a first homecoming dance as I set out with Hubby to our mountain destination. We accepted a ride with friends who have radial studded snow tires on their car and our rapid trip up the mountain gave us an education concerning the importance of investing in these tires. About an inch of snow was on our condo drive when we left home. Arriving at our party destination, we found snow piled high. During our ascent through steady snowfall, the super-tires probably shaved fifteen minutes off of our trip time.
We arrived at the beautiful and food-filled home of our friends, where, as soon as the “talking heads” of football dominated the screen, the party divided into two camps – the Super Bowl camp and the game camp (aka Scrabble and card players).
The game people, being closer to the food, consumed enough snacks to constitute a meal. That was before pizza, salad, and homemade pie were served. The smorgasbord of snacks included several varieties of chips, crackers, a veggie platter, a fruit platter, stuffed jalapeƱos, deviled eggs, and homemade toffee and truffles. There were “personalized” dips for every kind of chip, cracker, and platter. I had no idea that the various varieties of chips require their own dips.
Right in the middle of the card game, when I was just getting the rules in place and might have actually been the winner of that round, whoops of victory for some team caused our game to come to an abrupt end. And, even though I was not supporting a team, I was happy that the team with the pretty green and gold uniforms won.
So now I’ve come full circle regarding why my morning was not greeted with a smile. It is because at 2:00 a.m. sleep was still a hope for me. Maybe at my next Super Bowl Party I should watch the game and not sit at the table next to the snack buffet. Or not!
Oh yes, did I mention that the stuffed jalapeƱos peppers were scrumptious?
Wow, there she goes: walkin' on the wild side! (I was the only one in the house last night rooting for the Not-Green-and-Gold uniforms. Oh, well. A matter of small consequence, if not inconsequence.)
ReplyDeleteAt least the Superbowl ended at 8 where you live. :)
ReplyDeleteVanilla, I am becoming the wild one!
ReplyDeleteBuriednova - Yes, and that is a good thing since we live in retirement country.
You had me feeling for you until you mentioned the peppers!
ReplyDeleteCaptain Nancy, I really do need to learn. But I like the peppers :)
ReplyDelete