30 to 24

We live in a house divided. There is an enormous rivalry between two Universities in our fair state. The Saint attended one, and I the other. Precious Oldest has joined the evil at the Saint’s Alma Mater. Which I’m OK with because I’m hoping Precious Youngest will run to the light in Lawrence choose the right school .

The much anticipated rival football game was played Saturday and guess who WON?!?! That’s right, not the “ranked” team, but little ole us. Now I’m not much of a football fan, but when the stakes are high I get a little excited. Since….. well…. forever, the Saint and I bet a dollar on each and every football and basket ball game played between our respective schools. It is a tad lopsided since we meet quite a bit more during basketball season than football season, but let’s just say I’ve amassed an astounding stack of $1 bills. Oh, what’s that you say? Did I KEEP them all? Oh, HELL yes!

I try not to rub it in too much when we win in basketball, but football? BWAHAHA! (My father even left me a message warning me not to gloat. Too bad I didn’t hear it until Sunday.) Sib # 2 and I went out Saturday night with her little man. She too attended the same fine, prestigious University as I. So we called Precious Oldest to gloat sing our fight song. I mean really, what else could we do? At first I thought Precious Oldest hung up on us because there seemed to be a little static on the line, but when she realized the call was from me she immediately put me on speaker. Why? Because as soon as the game ended she turned to her friends in the stands and said: “You know what the worst part is? My mother will call within the next 24 hours and she won’t say a word, she’ll just start singing the damn fight song.” Man, that kid loves it when she’s right!!