I’m sure there were shouts and huzzahs! all over the U.S. last night, except perhaps for some random people in New York and one couple that I know of in Orlando, Florida. Here in Lawrenceville, GA, there were no shouts. There were no huzzahs! There was stunned silence.
“The game is over?” I asked doubtfully.
“Yup,” Chris answered.
“And the Cowboys won?”
He smiled at me. “Yes, your Cowboys won.”
“That would be the Dallas Cowboys?”
“Tony Romo, Demarcus Ware, et al?”
“You watched the game, Vicki.”
“I know, but really. My Dallas Cowboys won? My Dallas Cowboys won!”
It finally sank in. I pulled out my phone.
“You do have bragging rights,” Chris noted. “It was a great game.”
I texted the couple in Orlando: “Dearest Mom and Dad, Romo Rocks! Sorry about Eli and the Giants. NOT!”
I swear I could hear my parents sigh from 400 miles away. We’ve been a divided family since forever. Staunch Giant fans, somehow my parents raised a staunch, nee rabid, Cowboys fan. They wonder where they went wrong. I wonder why they never saw the light. The Cowboys are obviously superior. Last night, my Cowboys proved it.
By the way, Demarcus Ware got 2 sacks last night, which is probably enough to convince the child in the NFL ad to become a Cowboys’ fan. Welcome to the club, little man.