Superb Bowl

We usually host the Super Bowl at our place. Partly because I love making snacks. Partly because I have to watch the commercials for my job and yelling, “Shut up! Doritos has something important to say to America!” isn’t cool at someone else’s house.

This year, our friend Kitty took over the Super Duties. This allowed her husband Joe to accomplish his lifelong dream of putting a TV in the kitchen. I was totally on board, as I was a suffering from a string of kitchen failures (pro tip: cook chicken thoroughly) and wasn’t feeling up to hosting. Diana and Elijah were also excited.

Who am I missing? Oh, right. Luca.

Luca demanded to watch the game at our house. His obsession with the NFL is all encompassing and he wanted total control over the event. So we opted for a kid party our place. Luca invited a small gaggle of 10-year-olds plus our Kansas City Chiefs loving neighbor, Liam. 

Small note on Liam. I love this kid. That’s it.

Luca volunteered me to co-host. This was because Luca demanded a high level of NFL knowledge in his attendees and I qualified more than the Wine/Grateful Dead lady. I kept my menu simple: pizza and chicken wings (thoroughly cooked). Plus seventy five bags of chips.

Luca was meticulous in his preparation. He made posters and built a Lombardi shrine under the TV. He acquired a Kansas City Chiefs shirt through manipulation and subterfuge. 

The guests arrived precisely at kickoff. They were a hilarious Rat King of arms and legs and floppy hair and boy stink. One kid showed up in a sport coat and he immediately became my favorite and I bestowed him extra Sprite and Fanta. 

Luca delightfully told the boys I needed utter silence during commercials because I’m a high powered advertising executive. This garnered me minor celebrity status, which I was more than happy to accept.

If you recall, the game featured a thrilling ending. In the last two minutes, every boy was standing on our couch, screaming. Chips and popcorn and chicken wings covered every inch of the room. As a bonus, Liam’s dad came over and added his voice to the throng. 

And just like that, it was over. 

I look forward to discovering the three chicken wing bones hiding under the couch in the months to come.

p.s. I don’t have any good photos from the night, so here is a shot of Eli looking cute.