Yes, I (Styx) love football. I have very fond memories of parking it on the couch with Pa Dukes to watch the "Queens", as he affectionately calls the Vikings. I loved living in West New York, just minutes from Giants stadium- I enjoyed going to those games so much. (Except for that time those jerks got into the secured player/family parking area and took my parking pass and laptop. But that's a different story.) I loved experiencing the Gophers game in the new open-air stadium last weekend. Amazing. I can throw a decent spiral, and fancy myself a passable wide receiver (no pun intended). Infact, if anyone's interested- some of the best fun can be had Sunday mornings in Mendota Heights, when Hecate and Pa Dukes and I occasionally hit the field with a bunch of pigskin-loving dudes for some razzle dazzle. But that's a different story.
Back to today's post: Junior and I had the opportunity to check out the MN Vikings up close last Sunday, in some of the most perfect seats ever, with the perfect joiner Junior could have asked for: his buddy Max. Imagine two almost four-year-olds partying it up on the sidelines at a pro football game-- they were in heeeeeaven. And not like most grown women would be (up close and personal with the magic of spandex on well-kept hinders and thighs of steel). No, Junior was much more concerned with the Vikings cheerleaders.
And so I bring you Junior's quote of the week:
Mommy, can I have those girls with no shirts on someday to come and babysit me?
My answer? No way in hell those bodies are getting near my newly upholstered sofa with all that spray tan action. But judging by how they are totally non-stop the entire game, I'm totally ok with those bouncy cheering chickies taking the kid to the park for a good run. Hey, mama's gotta get dishes done somehow..
Pics from our seats:
Junior and his buddy, Max
Girls-with-no-shirts Babysitting Club.
ReplyDeleteCould make a few bucks, no?
I guess we could... if the kids were indifferent to stretch marks and post-baby belly jiggle. HAHAHAHAHAA!!!
ReplyDeleteHey I went to college with some now former "Queens" cheerleaders and I know they worked diligently for hours laying in the sun with a combination fake bake to perfect their tans. So I am appalled to hear that someone would dare use spray on tanner
ReplyDeleteTragic, isn't it? I mean, the orange hue is so much more believable when the sun has had its cancer-inducing way with the skin and a bottle of Hawaiian Tropics has fully seeped into the epidermis. What do these new age cheer-bumpkins think they're doing, reinventing the proverbial wheel of fake bake???
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