The Man to Die For made me snort... and Junior is a doofus

So, last night was Jeff's first football game for his high school team. I suppose I should back up and start by saying that he chose to go to the rival high school of where Bob teaches. It is, after all, our home school, and all his friends are there. Anywhooo.... first football game. Dad went to see it (I couldn't get off work early enough cause they were playing a team which is out in Burbank for cryin' out loud - an hour away!). Dad even choked on his own spit enough to wear a Jeff's school's t-shirt. (and we got a picture of it to blackmail and send to Bob's principal if he gets out of hand, too!)

We won 41-8. Woohoo! Point is, Jeff forgot his game socks. Doofus. Bob spent the whole game wondering why he didn't play. Benched for forgetting your game socks? Ouch. Tough break. Turns out, our big man's helmet fell out of his bag on the locker room floor before he got on the bus to go to the game, and the doof never noticed. Bwahahahaha!!!!!! Kinda hard to play without your helmet, now, isn't it? Doofus!!

So today, Bob wore his rival t-shirt, and I wore my t-shirt. The kids are off doing their own thing. We had dinner out, and got home, and I mentioned that I wanted something sweet after dinner. "A kiss?" I got my sugar (are you all gagging yet?). Then my man to die for calls me a traitorous bitch and pinches me. For wearing my t-shirt. I found it so funny, I started laughing so hard, I snorted. Bad habit of mine. So I gave him a titty twister. Which led to a tickle fight. At which point Jeff walked in, rolled his eyes, and nonchalantly looked for something to eat. Can I just say? I love that in our 40s, we still horse around and have tickle fights. And that nothing thwarts the doofus in his efforts to forage for food.