It’s fantasy football season again. I know most people just call it football season, but not us.
This means that the Wives Against Fantasy Football Leagues Everywhere, or WAFFLE for short, has re-commenced with its meetings. And by meetings, I mean passing each other in the hallway at church and just shaking our heads…shaking our heads. Let me know if you want to start a chapter in your town. Also, we seriously need a t-shirt.
Ah, Gronk, they tell me you’re a bad boy but how could that be with such a baby face??
I need planting season to coincide with fantasy football season. I have lots of free time on my hands now, and relatively little gardening work to do. Here are some ideas I am considering to fill the expanse.
{And yes, in case you’re wondering, it has been suggested that I should take up “watching football” as a way to fill this time glut.}
{Also, I just looked up the word “glut,” because it sort of got switched in my mind for a second and I was confusing it with another word…but no, it’s the right word. For the definition is “excessively abundant supply of something.” YEP, that’s the word I wanted.}
So back to the activities. I might:
Make a complete log of Disneyworld ride wait times by the hour on their super-addicting new app, making sure to include approximate walking time from that point to the nearest Dole Whip kiosk.
Take advantage of David’s near-comatose state and convince him that I would be a really great beekeeper.
Learn something new. Like Greek.
Of course, this is the point in this post at which I feel obliged, nay obligated, to mention that David’s main league {yes, there is more than one. No comment.} is a cash-money league and last year he swept the whole thing. {Yay, honey, way to go, said not at all with a tinge of sarcasm and only full-on-supportive-wife-enthusiasm.}
However, this is now the point in this post at which I feel obliged, nay obligated, to mention that Honey, since you won last year you’ve proven you can win money doing this and mama might have herself a little expectation now, so giddy-up.
Nothing covers a multitude of sins like handing over those earnings to a garden center. Mention it to Gronk for me?
