The Minnesota Vikings and a letter grade.

Okay, so some of you are aware of the fact that my husband and his parents have season tickets to the Minnesota Vikings. I bring this up because I have to comment on something I saw today and what it reminded me of.

Today we were at the game and there I was sitting in my blue jeans, Vikes jersey and pigtails and this woman comes and sits two rows ahead of us with some man (probably her husband or boyfriend or something) and she has her hair all done (long and straight), and she is wearing this white pant suit type outfit with a green tank underneath. Now, I couldn't see, but I have no doubt that she was probably wearing heels too. I looked at Sonny and asked him if I dressed like that for a game if he would tell me that I looked alright. He said no. Now, if you know me, you know that I like to look nice when I go out but when I go to a game, you gotta dress for the occasion. Seriously, that lady.

So this made me remember last year when we went to another game. The people who were sitting to our left were also Vikings fans. Well, I should say that the man was, and possibly the daughter, but the mom, not so much. How could we tell? She was sitting, at a Vikings game, grading papers and when she finished that, she took out a novel to read. Seriously. There are people who would have probably loved to have been at that game, but there sat some ungrateful wife who blatantly didn't want to be there.

In other news...

We cleaned the townhouse last night. That was tiring, but at least now it is done. Now every day this week, I am going to fill my car with stuff to take over there after work. It's my way of accomplishing something since I won't be able to help with the move on Friday. Sonny says he is glad that I won't be there to dictate. I told him to be careful or I would get out of work just for him.

Lukin is a pill. Sure he is cute and all but he is getting to that naughty age where you can't take him out because he doesn't like to sit in his car seat. He wants to sit at the table or be walked around. Grrr... The 'joy' of parenthood.