Tonight is one of what seems to be 1,000,000 Duke v. North Carolina games. ( I think there are really, like 4) And as much as I hate football, the sight of a grown, 33 year old man rocking back and forth like an autistic child in front of the t.v. really sticks in my craw.
He will yell, he will scream, he will moan, and if they lose, he will punch things. He will speak to people who are not there ( I know, I know, we all do it, but I do it maybe once or twice a night. This will be constant for 3 hours) and when I have the nerve or audacity to actually answer him or ask "what?" I will get a very annoyed "I am not talking to you!"
Losing will involve 2 days of pouting and even more screaming at the next game. I really do wonder, what do women get as worked up about? Maybe it's because women tend to spread emotion out through the whole day and men seem to save it up for these moments that it all seems to alien to me. I thank the universe that there is a sports bar across the street where he can go for football and March Madness. MM is right around the corner and if things don't let up around here, Michael will learn the true meaning of Madness in March.