Just Off Center

Many years ago, Ray Kroc, founder of McDonalds, decided that he didn't want his senior managers to forget that in the end it was still all about selling hamburgers to those of good appetite but less ample finances. So to keep his people humble and connected with the lowest echelons of the McDonalds Corporation, Kroc established Founder's Day. This celebration took place on Kroc's birthday every year. Each Founder's Day, every higher manager would be taken out of his environment and forced to be a fry cook/cashier/pickle picker all day long. I'm sure it was a great experience for everyone. I wonder if the wester VP of Marketing remembered to shit on his hands before making the Big Macs.

Yesterday, there was something of a Founder's Day at our home in sunny Queen Creek Arizona. We woke up around eight and got out of bed as usual. Nina was really excited about watching the football games scheduled for that day. She never knew anything about football before and never showed an interest in learning. But this past week she had entered into a football pool with some friends. The prospect of winning money is always a powerful impetus for Nina to take an interest in something that would otherwise go unnoticed. She had her picks and a five dollar investment in our future. And with a possible $55 yield her absolute dedication to watching every play of every team on all fifteen games was necessary. She put on her pink sleep shirt and hunkered down on the couch for some serious football viewing.

I got on the computer and did my homework. After I finished my homework I started learning how to use some new web design software I'd "acquired" so that I could build new and better websites to host our blogs. Nina got hungry so she made tuna salad. I had leftovers from the past two suppers. About thirty minutes later, from the computer room, I started hearing these noises. It was unmistakably Nina shouting. It was almost as if Nina was quite certain that if she were to offer up her "sports commentary" loudly enough, not only would the players on the field hear her through the television, but they would heed her advice to "Motherfucker! Go Go Go! You stupid Go!" When I asked what she was yelling at she told me that the guy threw the ball to the other guy and he got hit by like three other guys. Then she asked me how many yards are in a down.

The entirety of my knowledge of football derives from attending my older brother's high school football games. Even though I never bothered to watch any of them, I guess some of the rules of the game seeped in somehow, because I was able to answer most of her questions accurately. It became clear that Nina wasn't going to make much of a happy homemaker today, so I decided to execute my own Founder's Day at home. I got her sodas, ran to the grocery store, scooped the litter box, made dinner, folded three loads of laundry, did the dishes, etc. I baked brownies from fucking scratch. I would on occasion remind her that there were things around the house that still needed doing and, even though I can respect a husband's need to relax on the weekend, I may ask for some help later. She didn't have much of a response.

By the time football had finally ended it was about 9:00 PM. Nina hadn't done very well in the football pool, but was still optimistic. We'd just have to see how her team did Monday night. I can't wait. But for the rest of Sunday night there would be no more football to watch. But there was still a bevy of sports shows highlighting the great plays of the day. Perhaps indulging herself in these shows would better prepare her for next week's pool. I'd better find out if she wants nachos or pigs in a blanket.

At the end of the night she got into bed and watched another CSI rerun. I wrapped up the brownies individually in plastic wrap and shut down the house for the night. After the show had ended she watched Terminator 3. I fell asleep horny and confused, but satisfied that I had cared for my emasculated bread winner on her day of rest. Perhaps I should just be thankful she didn't ask me to bring her a beer and give her a blowjob during halftime. I'm sure that tuna would have affected the tast of her semen. But like I said, there's always Monday night football to make up for anything that was lacking during Sunday's fifteen games.