Today I am wearing my newest Cowboys t-shirt. Stu laughed this morning when I put it on; people at church smiled in patronizing ways that either meant "Oh-that's-cute-how-she-loves-football" or "Doesn't-she-know-they're-not-playing?" Both of which made me feel slightly less Christian. The poor junior high girl - who knows me and my Dallas obsession, since every time I teach youth group in the fall I mention the game I'm missing to be in class with them - who asked smilingly "Are you excited about today?" was the lucky recipient of my overflowing bitterness about the Stupid Bowl. After I had unleashed my displeasure about the two teams playing and noticed her startled (stricken? terrified?) young face, I apologized and thanked her for thinking of me. It's not her fault she doesn't get how these things go. Even my best friends are blasphemers fail to understand the finer points of football fandom.
It's so sad. My only consolation today is the layered bean dip and half rack of Pepsi. WWJD?
