Family Affair

We got to Clare’s a little after five. I spent much of the next three hours either chasing my grandson from one end of the house to the other or having Leo chase me with an empty Diet Dr. Pepper bottle in his hand. The boy took particular delight in whacking an old man with his makeshift club. I watched the game in between the above and stopping to help myself to the mini-hot dogs in a blanket; we only eat these on Super Bowl Sunday, so I like to scarf down as many of these as possible. None of the commercials struck me as particularly memorable. As for the game, both teams sure looked like they were playing defense straight out of the Pro Bowl, circa 2015. Talk about waltzing into the endzone, drive after drive. The little man finally collapsed around 8:30. We stayed to the end of the game. My heart breaks for Eagles’ fans, not. Somewhere, W.C. Fields is smiling.