Dinner conversation tonight.
T: UF is going to CRUSH Louisville.
Bones: I think it will be 31-10.
T: I chose 35-10.
Bones: He wanted my score, but he won't choose what I choose.
T: Right. So Mom, pick a score.
I closed my eyes, put my hands out in a meditation pose, thumb to fingertip, closed my eyes, "OOOOOOOHHHHHHMMMMM"... opened them, looked up to the sky as if praying and said, "17-10".
And I picked up my fork and commenced eating.
T: Are you nuts?
I looked quizzically at him, dropped my fork, went back into my meditation pose, "OOOOHHHHMMMM", opened them again, shook my head and said, "Nope! 17-10".
Me: Look, you have rose colored glasses as to what this season was about. You don't remember all the screaming and yelling and craziness and they nearly disappointed you... consistently. I lived that 10th level of hell. I stand by my score.
Louisville is currently kicking UF's ass and I am in the dining room doing some work on my laptop. I yelled into the family room, "YOU KNOW? I THINK I GOT SOME LINES CROSSED WHEN MEDITATING ABOUT THIS GAME. I THINK IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 17-10 LOUISVILLE..."
I was met by silence in the other room. Heh. They are currently praying it is ONLY 17-10 Louisville and not 40-10.
I heard my husband lean over and say to my eldest, "Even if you get into UF, I think you need to go to FSU". *big grin*Posted by Boudicca at January 2, 2013 10:13 PM