Super Bowl Sunday

If there was one phrase that I could have heard less of, it would have been "torn ligament". I can't even remember which player, from which team, but somebody had a torn ankle ligament, and Dad was just in awe of the fact that he was playing as well as he was and kept saying it over and over throughout the game. The rest of us kept teasing Dad about it, bringing up the torn ligament as often as we could, too. We even joked that Mac was finishing the puzzle despite a hang nail and fractured finger.

Luke has gotten to the point where he is just as comfortable with everybody else as he is with me. You might even say he is no longer a mama's boy, but I really don't want to admit that. Sometimes if I try to take him from Peter or Emily, he totally doesn't want to come to me. He just loves those two. He sat for a while with Peter...

...and for a while with Grandpa.

The game couldn't hold his attention forever, so Nona (as she now wants to be called) entertained him with pans and songs.


The evening wouldn't have been complete without sibling bickering. Peter and Emily were kicking each other over who would have more leg room on the couch. I split them up, sending Emily to my chair. Sometimes Peter just needs to be sat on, so that's what I did. He's very much still a little kid- he needs a sibling to wrestle and fight with, and I'm the only one around that's bigger (at least in weight, for the time being).


In the end the Saints won, and it was a really fun game to watch. I think we were all kind of rooting for the Colts, but at least we didn't put money on it!