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Confessions of a Football Widow
Tips for Surviving Football Widowhood
Author's note: This was written in the fall. Since autumn is still aways off, there's plenty of time ladies, to plan your mode of attack on this tragic malady. We don't have to suffer anymore.
Good luck to us all.
Ed. - I forgot to mention that this article is a reprint of one I did for The Old South Advocate, in the '90's.
Ah, the sights and sounds of autumn. Trees trying to out-do each other with colour, crisp leaves rustling and crunching underfoot. The irritating shrill of a referee's whistle. I know that fall has arrived when that horrible sound assaults my ears, even though it's coming from a television two rooms away.
Without having to look, I know that my husband is sitting in his favourite chair, glassy-eyed, nearly comatose. His left hand is undoubtedly clutching the remote. To his right is a table of snacks and beer, and directly in front of him is that all important grid-iron that is sirening him away from his family. For the next few months, I am a football widow.
The Call For Help
Sure, I know I'm not the only one. In fact, the number of football widows in this country is probably pretty high. You would think there would be a support group, but I haven't found one.
Seek Solice With These Authors
For you other women out there in desperate need of coping strategies for the football season, I'm sharing some tips that I've picked up over the years. If you have any good ones yourself, let me know.
For starters, put all your sexy lingerie in storage, you're not going to be needing it. The only way you'll see any half time action for the next little while is to don a helmet and some really big shoulder pads. Whether you wear anything else or not is up to you, but don't forget the black stuff under the eyes. Author's note: some men (or so I hear) insist that the cleats are an essential part of the ensemble.
One year, I decided to try hiding the remote control. I figured if nothing else, my husband would be forced to stop the aggravating practice of flipping back and forth between games. Wrong. When I peeked into the den, he had his chair pulled up to about a foot away from the TV, his hand clamping the channel changing knob.
That reminds me. Having liniment on hand is very practical for this time of year. At the end of the day, your man will need you to pry the remote out of his hand and massage the stiffened appendage back to its original shape. Failure to do this could cause permanent damage, and eventually make the removal of the remote impossible. This would mean that you and the kids will only be able to change channels without getting up when Dad's hand is nearby. Author's note: A little callous rub may be helpful for the button pushing thumb.
I know it sounds otherwise, but this whole football thing isn't all bad. When your husband's team is winning (you'll know by the whooping and screaming that suddenly bursts forth), you can use this to your advantage. Supper burnt? It really isn't very important after a good touchdown. Want a little extra money? Now's the time to ask! You might also want to take this opportunity to impart some news or information that you've been holding off telling. He won't really hear, and in all probability, will offer a grunt in response. In fact, you could probably tell him that you are going off to have an affair with George Clooney, and he would say, "Have a good time.". Author's note: completely ignore all of these strategies if hubby's team is losing (you'll know by the cursing and screaming) as this will reverse the positive effects.
FOOTBALL WIDOWS OF THE WORLD UNITE!
We endure a lot, don't we? How do you think our men folk would like it if we spent three months a year keeping a constant tunnel-visioned eye on something that interests us. Can you imagine yourself parked in one spot and ignoring people for entire weekends and Monday nights, jumping up out of your chair and swearing at the tube when the Quilting Lady sews an ugly block in place? Disgusted about that, you can surf over to the Gardening Guy and hoot and whoop that he made a save of the petunia patch and beat out the weeds. On over to the Knitter's Corner - boring, but the other two shows are on commercial, and the three based-on-true-life movies you want to see don't start for four more hours.
I don't think they would put up with it.
© 2008 Shirley Anderson