Well, it finally worked. All the cajoling that my family has been doing for the last 20+ hours has finally talked me down from the roof. I am not sure why, other than the Bears’ loss, as to why I would want to jump off my roof, which by the way is only four feet from the hedges. (My wife said she didn’t want me ruining her hedges in my suicide attempt. This is the same woman who dropped me off at the emergency room during my “heart attack” and went shopping at Marshall’s.) I knew in my heart that the Colts were a better team, but it didn’t stop me from wishing it to be different.
Oh well, at least the food was good. To be honest with you, I ate so much of the Italian Beef that I passed out, and woke up in the middle of the television show Criminal Minds. Only to find out that the Bears lost the Super Bowl. I’d like to think it won’t be 21 more years before the next one. My wife, in what has become apparent to me in a sadistic streak, Tivo’d the game thinking I wanted to watch the carnage. I started to watch it, and about halfway into the second half I realized there was no hope, Grossman’s evil twin had shown up. This is when I grabbed another Beef sandwich, and a slice of pizza, and climbed up on the roof. Twenty hours later, I am writing this drivel to you. Anyway, I got a new hat in the process.
Tami and I are on our way to Nicaragua with World Vision. Don’t think we will run into a whole lot of Colts fans there. Life has a way of working out.