Spoiler Alert: the following blog reveals the ending of the new Dreamworks motion picture: Alpha and Omega.
Let me preface this week's entry by saying I am a family man. I love being a husband and a father of two beautiful little girls. I wouldn't change anything about my life.
Except on Sundays.
That's right. I wish I was a single guy on Sundays during the NFL season. I miss the old days, back when I was in university and life seemed so simple.
I would roll out of bed at 11:45 a.m., racing over to a shady convenience store just in time to get my Pro-Line picks in for the early NFL games. Then I would spend the next seven hours on the couch, covered in a fine dust of powdered cheese from a variety of my favourite snacks. My biggest worry was whether or not to start Az-Zahir Hakim on my fantasy team that week.
But for the past few years, my Sundays have been a blur - filled with sippy cups, birthday parties for obscure kids and an endless stream of runny noses. If my beloved Dallas Cowboys are playing a 1 p.m. game, I can pretty much guarantee I'll be following the game on my blackberry, with text messages from lucky guys who don't have beautiful wives or daughters.
Incoming Text: Did u see that Felix Jones run? Sick.
Outgoing Text: Nope. At IKEA ballroom with kids.
Yesterday was extra difficult for me, as I was forced to look after the kids on my own since my wife went to Montreal for a girls shopping weekend. She muttered something about me spending six weeks in Pittsburgh this year as she stormed out the door.
Fair enough. My wife spends more than her fair share of weekends alone with the kids with my busy travel schedule. But this just doesn't seem fair. How am I supposed to watch a crucial Week 3 NFL match up while looking after two kids?
In a nutshell, here's what I did:
11:30 a.m. - In an effort to establish some pre-game credit with the kids, I decide to take them for an early showing of the animated movie Alpha and Omega. The early start time not only ensures that I pay half-price for the tickets - but more importantly - it guarantees I will be back home in time to catch the opening kick-off at 1:07 p.m. It's a win-win situation for everybody.
11:49 a.m. - Why the hell are there so many previews for a kids' movie? We're totally running behind schedule here. Memo to Dreamworks: Stop making so many movies.
1:05 p.m. - We leave the theatre in a mad dash, with no time to discuss the ending of the movie or button up the kids' coats. Spoiler alert: After 88 minutes and 40 seconds, the wolf pack settle their differences through love and understanding. Big shocker.
1:19 p.m. - Arrive back in the house and my first job is to try and convince the three-year-old to take a nap. I figure my chances of watching the game in peace are greatly enhanced if I'm only dealing with one child. Man-to-man is so much easier than zone coverage. Of course the three-year-old has no intention of sleeping. I consider putting on the Ravens-Browns game to create a boring atmosphere in the house. On second thought, that will just put us all to sleep.
1:25 p.m. - I convince the three-year-old to take a nap by promising her I will buy her a pony when she wakes up. To make things easier, I put a diaper on her for the nap - even though we are trying to potty train her right now. I don't want her waking up with a messy pair of pants in 90 minutes, thereby ruining a critical third-and-long situation late in the game.
1:50 p.m. - The Cowboys offence finally wakes up, as Jason Garrett realizes that some of the pages of his playbook were stuck together for the first two weeks of the season. However, I miss the Marion Barber touchdown run because the six-year-old was trying to engage me in a dinosaur craft from Chirp Magazine.
2:04 p.m. - I attempt to teach my daughter about football, since I have distinct memories of watching the NFL with my dad when I was in Grade 1. I can clearly recall being a six-year-old and watching the NFC championship between Dallas and Washington in 1983. I learned how to swear because of my dad's frustrations with Danny White. But my daughter watches only two plays, asks no follow-up questions and promptly leaves the room to play with her collection of Littlest Pet Shop toys.
2:33 p.m. - David Buehler, who has trouble converting extra points, actually nails a long-distance field goal to give Dallas a 10-3 lead at the break. The VISA Halftime Show starts on FOX, giving me 17 minutes of quality father-daughter bonding time. Maybe we could read a book together or go play in the backyard.
2:34 p.m. - Father-daughter bonding time is put on hold because daddy has discovered the NFL Red Zone channel.
2:55 p.m. - Cowboys come back and score another touchdown, as Roy Williams makes it 17-3. I let loose with my most PG-friendly roar I can think of. "Way to go boys. Woo-hoo!" Watching an NFL game with kids around is like being at Ned Flanders' house. It's not like in the ‘80s when dads could swear and give their sons a tiny sip of beer.
2:57 p.m. - My yelling from the Roy Williams touchdown has woken up the three-year-old from her nap. She immediately asks about the status of her pony. I gently inform her that she has misunderstood me. "I said we were going to watch the Colts and Broncos at 4 p.m. Those were the horsies daddy was talking about."
3:12 p.m. - In an effort to ease the rising tensions in the room, I decide to use the picture-in-picture option and put a kids’ show on the smaller screen. Of course, this just leads to more hostility, as the kids feel they are being taunted by a small, mute version of Toopy & Binoo.
3:21 p.m. - The kids are now demanding a snack, completely oblivious to the fact that Neil Rackers has just cut the Dallas lead to 11 points, making the fourth quarter interesting. It's hard to feel like you are watching a big game when your sidekicks are eating cheese strings and yogurt.
3:37 p.m. - Roy Williams seals the Dallas win with a 63-yard touchdown strike from Tony Romo. I love how Wade Phillips looks so surprised every time his team pulls off a big play. The kids celebrate the moment by fighting over a stuffed iguana.
4:02 p.m. - I take the kids to the park after the game. Seeing their bright and smiley faces on the swings makes me realize that I should cherish these times with them. I tell them that next Sunday, I will spend the entire day with them. We've even planned to go on a family apple-picking trip at the orchard.
4:03 p.m. - I decline to tell the kids that the Cowboys are on a bye next week.
