Going into week two of the dreaded football season, I think I'm faring better than most years.

Going into week two of the dreaded football season, I think I'm faring better than most years.

This year I was prepared for it.

How I could have overlooked something as important as the dreaded NFL season in previous years–I'm just not sure.

It could be that Hubby goes into meditation weeks before the start of the season and I simply enjoyed the peacefulness without realizing that it was for a reason.

He's on more boards and fantasy football leagues than I think is humanly necessary. How he keeps them all straight I'll never know and that's likely a conversation we will never have.

However, he still thinks he can make me into the crazed NFL fan that he is. Where last year I was on a four-year plan to love the Vikings over our kids, him and basically my own life, now I've been moved to the 10-year plan.

I went with Hubby one night to "do his picks" as he calls them. A poor, unsuspecting, nice fellow thought that if I had come along it must be because I was somewhat of a football fan. He started to talk to me about football teams, injuries and who is on his fantasy football league.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized to him after he asked me a question that I couldn't fib my way out of. "You must mistake me for a football fan." 

"Not even the Vikings?" he asked incredulously.

"Nope, not even them," I answered solemnly.

Shortly after that conversation Hubby drug me out mumbling something about not being able to take me anywhere.

This past Sunday morning he was up early checking the computer for updates on his favorite teams.

"So where and when are you going to beat your chest with the other cavemen over football?" I asked him.

"At the usual place," he answered, which indicated he would like to watch the game at his favorite local bar and grill.

Mid-afternoon on Sunday I started to plan what I should make for supper thinking I would be dining alone when Hubby showed up back at home.

"Is everything okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah, the game is over," he answered.

"So there's no more football on today?"

"Oh, there's football on until 10 p.m. tonight. The game I went to watch is over," he said. "Can I please watch football in the living room or am I going to be banished to the man cave?"

"Football watching deserves banishment," I answered simply.

I didn't see him again until bed time.

So far, week one of the fifth year of NFL seasons that Chris and I have endured together seems to be going exceptionally well. Let's hope the subsequent 16 weeks of regular season play continue just as smoothly.