[Cue lilting French accordion music...] I remember first being introduced to Nutella when I was but a girl traveling the French countryside from Avignon to the Cote d'Azur. My parents had Parisienne friends they had met on a previous trip abroad, and we were traveling with them through France and Spain. We would picnic in sunflower fields along the way. Le petit-dejeuner would consist of fresh baguettes, cheese, chaud chocolat and Nutella. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. We brought a jar home and I mourned the day I scraped out every last minuscule hazlenutty, chocolately bit of goodness. I remember the day, years later, when I found Nutella on the shelf of a local cheese shop. Now you can find it just about everywhere. Must our kids yearn for nothing? (I have always wanted to be someone who had a "while I was traveling the French countryside" story, even though I would find it slightly affected and annoying coming from someone else, especially if they said things like "when I was but a girl" and peppered the tale with French words. I forgot I actually have one of those stories. Score! If it makes it less annoying, I have a "throwing up in the back seat of the car driving through Germany" story too. Actually, I have two of those.)
But lo and behold, the New York Giants made it to the Super Bowl. That changed things up a bit. Mark is a giant huge Giants fan. I think if your team makes it to the show, that makes it a holiday. So we celebrated, and so did Nutella...
Mark and I have had quite the sports fan journey throughout our marriage. I am from the Philadelphia area. Philly? New York? Not a sports fan marriage made in heaven. As a stalwart Phillies and reluctant Eagles fan (don't get me started on their more recent history), I HATED all New York teams. Mark, being the more mature of the two of us (heaven help us, how did we make it this far?) usually managed to take the higher road. I did not. But that was a long time ago. I hate to admit it, but I have matured over the years. We route for our respective teams throughout the season and then post season, unless our teams are playing each other, we support each other. And, my apologies to any New England fans reading, I would cheer on any team playing the Patriots, especially in the super-est of bowls.
But I had a lot of anxiety. You see, it was also Disaster Day. I could not ignore it. What if the Giants lost? It would be a DISASTER! Would that be good for celebrating Disaster Day? Sure. But would that be good for the woman who has to live with the crazy Giants fan? Heck no! If you watched the game you know there was much nail biting but, thank goodness, the Giants pulled it out. Much to someone's great joy...
You can tell he's not really that big of a fan, right? He had Giants paraphernalia on under his jeans, too.
If Mark ever doubted my love for him in our 19+ years of marriage, I laid them to rest this historic evening...
I put on a Giants hat. I didn't explode into a cloud of dust or melt. Lightening didn't strike. I even took a pic with my phone and sent it out to the Facebook universe.
Of course, that was why the Giants won. They couldn't have done it without me.
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