It’s a Party, Kinda

Hello folks, let’s chat… We’re just hours away from Super Bowl 49 and I’m not all that excited this year. (At least not about the match-up– I’m thrilled about the company. Thanks for the invite, Red!) Not having a favorite team has the potential of draining the drama right out of the big game and makes for a not so exciting Super Bowl party. I mean, my Saints didn’t make it and neither did my Manning boys.

Bummer.

On the other hand, I won’t have to peek between my fingers or sweat out a single third down. So, there’s that. In my experience, it’s easy to be impartial when you don’t have a dog in the fight.

For illustration, I give you an unrelated but unfortunate story from my high school days. All these years later, it’s still hard to talk about it, but the truth is that one sad day I hit a dog with my car.

Accidentally.

In my defense, I was in a curve when the poor thing came out of nowhere and lunged at my tires.

The whole thing was unavoidable.

These are the things I found myself saying moments later to the father of one of my friends. I hadn’t known the family very long at the time, but their house was nearest the scene of the accident so I pulled into their drive in my emotional distress and knocked on their door.

Friend’s Daddy listened as I sobbed out my story. Friend’s Daddy was full of compassion as he patted me on the shoulder. Friend’s Daddy was very concerned about my distraught state– right up to the moment when he asked me what kind of dog it was and I told him it was a big red dog.

“Wait a minute!” Friend’s Daddy, said. “That’s MY dog!”

And just like that, he was anything but impartial. I think it remains one of the fastest times I’ve ever seen a southern gentleman go from “Bless your heart” to “I know you didn’t.”

Hugs, Shellie