It’s Super Bowl Sunday. We’re going over to our friends’ house for a party. J bought so much food to bring over there. He always goes overboard and seems to think he’s feeding an army. We’re bringing wings and shrimp, but some how he thought we had to bring a cheese and sausage tray too. Like we’re the only ones bringing something. I thought the wings with the carrots and celery to go with it were enough, but not in his mind. I didn’t pay for it so I guess I don’t have to worry about it. We both have to be at work by 6 am tomorrow which means dropping Peanut Butter off at daycare at 5:30 am. It should be a lot of fun since J will more than likely get loaded today, even though he knows he has to get his ass up. You’re just not cool if you don’t get smashed for the super bowl, like we’re in our early 20’s anymore. It will be mornings like tomorrow I will be so happy I gave up the sauce.
I will basically be watching for the commercials, since I don’t really like the Pats and I don’t think the Giants can win. I don’t want to see Randy Moss get a ring.
Thankfully the house should be somewhat childproofed since they have a 2 year old. It is such a pain in the ass chasing her all day while you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself esp when J thinks watching her for 5 min is a long time. He couldn’t control her at the salon yesterday while the boy got his shaggy look chopped off and that couldn’t have taken more than 20 min. The only real thing I’ll be worried about is her trying to drink everyone’s cans, since she is always after my diet coke. I think our recliner seat is pretty much marinated in the stuff. I know two cans got dumped on it this week. Turn your back for a second and she’s gone.