Sunday is a day of rest

...for some folks. For me, it's just another day to do laundry.

For my husband, Sunday=Football. Especially today, when the Pats play the Chargers for a chance to play in the Super Bowl. And then there's another game, with Green Bay and The NY Giants.

Geesh. You'd think I'd know what I was talking about, wouldn't you? In a way, I have no choice. Even my children are football obsessed. (I suppose my dogs would be, too. If they could talk:

Duffy(reading the newspaper): Ooh. I hope the Patriots win, today. Do you think the Cheese Heads will beat the Giants?

Rosie(nodding): If I were a giant, I'd eat the cheese heads. I like cheese.

Duffy (rubbing his head with a forepaw): No, no, no. Stupid puppy. They aren't really giants or cheese heads. Those are just their names.

Rosie: But if they're not giants or cheese heads, then why would they call themselves that? And...where is the cheese, anyway? (sniffs around)

Duffy: There's no cheese, puppy! There's just yellow helmets.

Rosie (sitting on her bum with her hind paws up): How do you know their helmets are yellow? You're color-blind.

Duffy(rolling onto his back for a tummy rub from passing human): Just forget it.

Perhaps I should consider Sunday a day of rest from writing. I think my brain is melting.

Happy Sunday!