Though it might very well be one measure of how much I like the new guy. Girls, you might want to sit down, and brace yourselves. Ready? OK then.
He invited me to come have dinner and watch the game on Super Bowl Sunday. And bring my knitting, just in case he is not able to convert me to the true faith (i.e., football).
We all know how I feel about football.
But I like the guy. And he makes the effort to appreciate what I like. Remember the wee bear he gave Chutzpah for Christmas?
I don’t expect to like the game; I haven’t liked football since I joined the pep club my sophomore year in high school and had to stand and scream for three hours, and it wasn’t even a flattering pep club uniform (kelly green jacket and skirt; mustard yellow shirt; hello? so not me!). But I think it will be fun to watch him, watching the game. And I will get to meet the one son I haven’t met but have spoken to on the phone.
And he’s making cheesecake.
- Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!