Surprisingly, I enjoyed this Cowboys-themed weekend far more than I imagined. I went into this weekend knowing that this was my husband’s gift and I was just along for the ride.

The stadiums, both The Star (their training center) and AT&T Stadium, were impressive. They were beautifully decorated, meticulously clean, and efficiently managed. I wish I could learn more about the insane management it must take to run each of these buildings. I was fascinated by the pictures and signs all throughout and imagine that, surely, there must be a person or team that is responsible for changing and updating the pictures and information. That HAS to be a full time job and, as someone who is extraordinarily organized, I just want to peek at their calendar and to-do list.

For dinner one night, we übered over to Babe’s Chicken Dinner House and had the best fucking fried chicken we’ve ever eaten. It was pure golden fried deliciousness. I could feel my arteries clog with each bite but it was, without a doubt, worth my eventual heart attack. In fact, John (who is not normally a fried chicken fan, much to my dismay throughout our 25 year marriage) declared he’d be willing to fly back to Dallas just for that fried chicken. Yeah, and I’m sure the fact that Dallas is also the home of the Cowboys has nothing to do with that.

By the way, even in another state my stupid husband woke my ass up to run. We ran from the hotel all the way to the AT&T stadium. I’ll admit that was pretty cool even if I was pissed about running.

While the rivalry ran high that weekend, I was surprised there was not a single red MAGA hat. Kudos to these über fans who united over a different difference of opinion for one weekend! As humans, we always look for something that separates us, that imaginary difference that makes one feel superior to the other. In this day and age, with the internet and a divisive president, it was nice to see everyone united (and separated) over a different rivalry.

United or not, I was not about to watch the game. As I’ve said a million times, I hate football. I spent most of the game on my iPad playing with my color-by-number app. I did look up a time or two. Once to see Ezekiel fail to catch a ball that touched his fucking hands … I’m sooo glad the Cowboys caved to his ridiculous demands and allowed him to snake his way out of his rookie contract! This pisses me off! Why even have a contract?! Whatever, the Cowboys paid him millions of dollars to drop a pass that hit him directly in his goddamn hands. Congrats.

The game was loud but it didn’t annoy me the way it usually does. It wasn’t until this past weekend that I realized what actually annoys me is not the sound of the roaring crowds, but the incessant chatter of the game announcers. Oh, my god! Shut the fuck up for a minute or two!

Apparently, it was a good game. I wouldn’t know except that the crowds were out of their seats! Up and down, jumping and high-fiving each other throughout. I had to laugh because, several times, I saw the people look around to high-five each other, always pausing just slightly when they realized I wasn’t even watching, so they high-fived my husband over my head instead. That’s right, move that celebration somewhere else — I’m coloring.

Walking home from the game, I noticed a white feather float past, then another. I looked up ahead and saw an Eagles fan wearing a full eagle costume, feathers and all! He was walking dejectedly and was literally molting with each step. It was very symbolic of the ass whipping they’d just received.

I may not care about the game but I was still glad the Cowboys won, if only because it made my husband incredibly happy. That weekend may not have been on my bucket list, but it was on his. I was glad to share in it.

Now, I need everyone within a 10 foot radius of me to shut the fuck up about football.