As you might imagine, our family anticipated and watched the first regular season Saints game with enthusiasm. Phil even bought a big, flat TV for the occasion. We made a deal with the kids: even though it was a school night, we let them stay up until halftime.
With about 5 minutes before the half, when the Horseshoes (as Ramona calls them) were already winning yet it seemed there still may be hope for the Saints, Ramona started to peter out. With about 2 minutes on the clock, I told her to go and get in the bath and that I'd be up in two minutes.
"Really? In just two minutes?" she asked suspiciously.
"Well, two football minutes is like 5 or 10 minutes," I explained.
Puzzled, she turned and went to the bath.
The Saints lost; we mourned.
The next morning, I woke Ramona up as I usually do on school days. Generally when I wake her up, we cuddle for several minutes. This cuddle is "a process" of connecting and then breaking apart. She does not let go easily.
This particular morning, I was in a hurry so I told her that I could only cuddle for two minutes.
"Two football minutes?" she asked.
A quick study, that one.
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