I can’t help it if you’re an easy target….

Fortunately for you (unfortunately if ‘you’ in this case are Christian), I almost forgot about this event completely. Almost. But I didn’t!

And now I can write about it…aren’t you lucky!

Go ahead, do a little happy dance, I don’t judge.

…I’m just gonna go ahead and apologize now…I’ve had 2 large cups of coffee and no breakfast, so I’m a wee bit amped today.

Now, without further adieu…or before I get sidetracked and almost forget about this again…I bring you your entertainment:

It’s a Thursday night. In October. Which means, football. If you need clarification on how I feel about this, read this. This also means that I have a new goal on such days. And that goal is to beat Christian home, turn on the TV and find something to become so completely engrossed in that he won’t dare change the channel.

This is a delicate art, people. I can’t go all Lifetime on him, or without hesitation or remorse he’ll change it. I can’t even attempt to compromise on a Christian-approved movie such as wedding crashers – seen it, no biggie, know how it ends.

What we have to go for here is intrigue. TLC never disappoints. Just the right amount of drama and reality to get that “she did WHAT?! Oh, I have to see how this sh*t goes down” reaction. Hooked like an unsuspecting trout, and I sit back and happily snicker as they reel him in one wackadoodle at a time.

Now, I promised him I wouldn’t tell the world what we spent a Thursday night during football season watching…so you’ll have to take your own stab at guessing which show it was.

I needed to remind him of that unbroken promise and I continue this story.

Yes, it gets better.

Not only had my tactic worked…like I said, a delicate art, people…but it worked with flying colors.

So, the hook is set, they’re reeling him in. I’m feeling grateful and I volunteer to get dinner started (something he has taken over since baby E).

Yay, cooking! Oh, how I’ve missed you…even if it is merely tossing one of those frozen meals into a skillet for ten minutes..it totally counts. Ok, maybe that doesn’t count, but I get to play with our new pots and pans, so I’m good.

I’m all caught up in shiny metal and un-scratched skillets when I hear it.

The sniffle.

I glance up just in time to catch the confirmation.

The eye wipe.

Oh yes, flying colors my friends. Flying. Colors.

My God, I love a man that can cry.

I do a victory lap in my head and bring my man dinner. I am proud. Proud of myself and my mad skills. Proud of my man for letting me have this one.

And then it occurs to me…that sniffle. that eye wipe. that tear.

Was is shed over TLC or was it shed in memorial of the lost football game?!

I rewind the evening in my head and pause it when I get to the eye wipe. Searching the blurry image, I find my answer.

Phone in hand. Fantasy football app, open.

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