The above: that's not mine.
The first years I lived in Ohio were spent in Campus Area/Columbus. Where the focus of every living breathing moment is, apparently, all football...all the time. Needless to say I did not adjust well to early morning inquiries about the game last night...especially when these were asked of me as I walked into church on Sunday!!! And I adjusted less well to being told, at the bar where my then-husband worked...that I should definitely hook up with self-aggrandizing beefcake* blocking my way because...he's Mr. Football. Like, totally, man...let me hop right on that.
UGH!
When my son was born at a healthy, happy, hefty weight...every person who came within breathing distance felt the need to inform me of their psychic connection to his future as a Buckeye. Cause ya know, that's what every Mami wants...a linebacker baby.
Double UGH!
Fast forward through multiple years and growing annoyance to finally getting the heck out of Dodge...whoops...I mean Buckeye-land... Any you'll find us here, with a whole massive pensi-sized state in between us and the dreaded pigskin-itis.
Oh, and there goes the mister man...running past with Transformer clutched tightly to his chest...wearing, you got it...an Ohio State hoodie. And I lift up my Ohio State mug of coffee, take a deep gulp...and sigh...
P.s.-the mug was unearthed in the dust-ridden caverns of the 'Man of the Hour's kitchen cabinets.
P.p.s.-the hoodie was a thrift store find the week after we moved.
Can I put a P.p.p.s. on a P.p.s. following a P.s. to note that I WILL take a picture of the mister man sporting team pride later and post it?
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*: 'beefcake'-a term used here solely to designate the footballer's skull being full of useless mash, but generally used by lil'sis Raquel as her nickname for the Man of the Hour. Enjoy the clarity!