Every year my wife and I make an Unholy Bet for the Super Bowl. This is yesterday’s timeline:
7:58 A.M. – Wake to sleeping wife. She looks smug, like she’s dreaming of a Baltimore win, dreaming of the things she’s going to stick up my butt.
8:03 A.M. – Sit on the toilet and cry.
8:15 – 8:40 A.M. – Pace the floors of our apartment.
8:43 A.M. – Remember the dog needs to go out. Watching Sunny poop makes me anxious.
9:45 – 10:25 A.M. – Turn on the computer. Type a poorly-written blog post.
10:35 A.M. – Start biting nails, which makes me think of my wife’s nails. Refuse to cry.
11:02 A.M. – Sneak into our bedroom and quietly pull out my suitcase. I accidently wake up my wife, who sees my pathetic attempt to flee. “Oh right, Super Bowl!”
11:03 A.M. – Taunting begins with wife slowly worming her finger towards my face.
11:04 A.M – 12:15 P.M – Field texts, calls, and Facebook messages from friends asking who I picked (Niners), wondering how I’m feeling, and wishing me luck. My mom calls and asks what I’m cooking today. I tell her I don’t want to talk about food. She asks what’s wrong. I make up an excuse to get off the phone.
1:35 P.M. – I feel like I’ve been watching the pregame show for a month, but I can’t look away. I’m hoping they’ll tell us one of the Ravens is dead.
1:49 P.M. – After an interview with Ray Lewis, my wife starts trying out his war dance. I ask her to stop. She keeps dancing. She says, “I’m gonna stab your butt like Ray Lewis.”
2:38 P.M. – We place an online order for hot wings. I already regret it. My stomach is in knots.
3:15 P.M. – How the hell is this pregame show still on?
3:29 P.M. – Alicia Keys starts singing the National Anthem, which means it’s almost kickoff. I wish it was still the pregame show.
4:07 P.M. – Flacco drills one to Anquan Boldin for a touchdown. Ravens take the first lead. Wife claps and dances around. She shows me her finger and repeats, “Gonna stab it in there like Ray Lewis.”
4:29 P.M. – San Francisco settles for a field goal. The delivery guy buzzes. The wings arrive.
4:50 P.M. – Ravens force a fumble and recover. I wonder if I’ll ever recover.
5:20 P.M. – Wife just starts picking up objects and showing them to me. There’s no way that ketchup bottle is going to fit.
5:22 P.M. – I’m so stuffed, but I defiantly eat a wing as my wife pantomimes spreading my butt-cheeks and crawling her whole body into my butt.
5:30 – 6:30 P.M. – Each live-Tweet I post tears through my heart. I’m trying to be funny, but I’m miserable. It’s clear the Niners are overmatched. Beyonce does give me a small reprieve, but only an act of God will save my rear.
6:32 P.M. – POWER OUT AT THE SUPERDOME! Act of God! Act of God!
7:00 P.M. – Power back on. So are my wife’s taunts. She’s doing a form of the running man in our living room. Our dog starts spinning in circles. I feel betrayed.
7:29 P.M. – Holy crap, the Niners have pulled within 5! Just under two minutes to go. It’s 4th and Goal. Kaepernick chucks it to the corner for Crabtree. I close my eyes and listen as Jess screams. It’s a happy scream. It’s over. Almost. We watch as the last seconds tick off. Ravens win.
7:33 P.M. – I’m taking off my pants as I walk to the bedroom. Jess says, “Come on, let’s savor this for a bit.” “DON’T USE THE WORD ‘SAVOR.’” I get on my back, hold my knees, and close my eyes. My wife pushes a button. The buzzing fills my ears. I start giggling. I can’t stop.
“Why don’t we just tell people we did this?” Jess says. “No one will know.”
“I’ll know.” Three deep breaths.
And we have penetration!
I start to scream, then suddenly stop.
“What?” Jess asks.
“It’s…not bad.”
photo credit: kamera.obskura via photopin cc
