The usual suspects (and a few new additions) came over to the house last night for a Super Bowl party. Because, in my world, all interesting parties need a food theme, the theme for this night was Souper Bowl.
It's a tried-and-true play on words, and sure, it might be considered trite, but you can't argue with the yummy food that resulted. Jack Thunder and Cordelia brought a delicious corn chowder filled with tender potatoes. MAS brought a chickpea, spinach, lemon-infused soup that was great. Dr. Actually and GF provided a whole pot of black bean soup with all the fixins', and Flipper brought a hot pot of vegetarian chili. Sven Golly brought some homemade wheat bread. Lynda provided lots of brownies and chocolate chip cookies. VG made her own cornbread. DG brought some crunchy French bread. Shirtless Wonder provided sweet pineapple. I made some salsa and cheese quesadillas.
The food was indeed, super. The game, alas, was pretty lame. The commercials were even lamer, lackluster, lacking in verve.
I confess that I was too busy doing other things and didn't pay tons of attention to the game itself.
Luckily, there were plenty of people that were much more invested in the game than me.
The sad thing is that we sat and complained about the game being pretty slow, but we didn't do anything about it. No one, me especially, took control of the situation and forced a change. We didn't turn off the TV, we didn't play cards, we didn't turn on a movie, we didn't play Pictionary. We just kept watching, waiting, hoping for something exciting to happen.
The girls were very good during the entire affair. They played a lot together and kept to themselves for a lot of the party. It was pretty unusual for them. I think they really enjoyed the party setup I created in the front room. (I moved our TV down from the bedroom and Lynda and I moved the loveseat up from the basement for additional seating.) The mysterious presence of different furniture energized the girls and got them excited.
Finally, thought, the game ended, people went home. Today at work everything seemed subdued. It took until late in the afternoon when the iPod shuffled up "Hey Ya!" that my spirits started to rise. (Nothing like "Hey Ya!" to get your feet tapping.) It got me to thinking . . . maybe we should leave early on depressing days like this and find a club to go to and dance like idiots. I'm not saying that I would participate in the idiot dancing, but I can imagine the scenario.)
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