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| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
SHOWCASE
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October /
November 2006 Contest Results |
Are You
Ready For Some Football?
By Charla Belinski,
Colorado
It’s
football season and in my house that’s a lot like being single again.
Except I live with people who spend a lot of time here, mostly lying on
couches and eating in the living room in various stages of undress.
This
fall ritual of male bonding (which oddly includes my eight year-old
daughter) used to be a nice manageable twice-a-week football fest, but
thanks to the wonders of modern technology and high definition TV we can
now watch football six days a week. Apparently they take a break on
Wednesdays for religious observance.
Last week I decided to take matters into my own hands.
“I’d like to speak to all the football fans in the house who, in the
excitement of the season, seem to have forgotten how to put laundry away
and breathe.”
The grunting from the couches grew louder so I assumed I had their
attention.
“Would it be too much to ask that at the commercials you could actually
hang up the wet towels that have been on the floor since this morning?”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. I think you could handle it. And the cereal bowls from your
last meal, too.”
“No, no!” their complaints were growing.
“I know football season will be over soon and I can handle it a while
longer as long you’ll help out around here during time outs and
commercial breaks.”
“I can’t believe it!” There was collective moaning from somewhere inside
the couch cushions.
“Oh, believe it, guys. I feel a little taken advantage of these days
and,” – if I really had their attention I might as well go for broke –
“I need you all to step up to the plate and do more around here. Dinner
would be nice, and some regular chores wouldn’t hurt you either.”
I was feeling better just getting this off my chest. Already I was
envisioning things running smoother. Tomorrow morning the kids’
backpacks would be lined up and ready at the front door and breakfast
dishes would be properly loaded into the dishwasher. Dirty clothes would
actually make it into the hamper and clean ones would be distinguishable
by actually being in the drawers where they belonged. I could almost
smell the sweet success as I envisioned us around the dinner table, the
entire family pitching in to clean up afterwards and maybe – dare I
hope? – all settling into the living room to read a book or play a board
game together.
Yes, I can handle football season as long as my family truly hears MY
needs and acknowledges MY feelings once in a while. I don’t know why I
had let this get so out of hand – it felt good to be conversing with
them this way. It felt right.
Judging by the quiet I could see they were mulling over my words. I
sensed – remorse even.
“Did that really happen?” my son asked, seemingly unconvinced.
“Oh, yes, honey. It happens a lot during football season. And I just
don’t want us to take each other for granted. I don’t want it to be a
routine that we plop in front of the TV instead of interacting as a
family.”
“Got it. He got it!” my husband shouted.
“Well… thank you,” I said, a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. “So
then, at the commercial…?” I trailed off, knowing they would heed my
words and move into helping-mom-mode at the soonest opportunity.
My husband sat on the edge, nearly ready to leap off the coach. Our
three children were scattered around him in various stages of disarray.
Just then the television began blaring a commercial and my husband
turned his full attention to me. Hopeful, I waited.
“I’m sorry, babe, were you saying something?”
http://www.charlabelinski.com
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