A major point of contention in a relationship is the management of time on a Sunday. The last chance to enjoy the weekend without having a made-up government holiday like Memorial Day, Lincoln’s Birthday, or Secretary’s Day. The woman wants to seize the day (carpe diem for all you Dead Poet’s Society buffs) and see the world with a drive or an eight hour mall extravaganza to pick out Aunt Thelma’s birthday gift three months early or a throw rug for the living room made from poly-weave fabric. The guy on the other hand would rather wake up five minutes before kick-off and have breakfast served to him – because serving himself would consist of leftover McDonald’s, half a bag of assorted nuts and flat, generic brand grape soda.
After kick-off, all the food would be delivered by some high school kid and the only communication the male wants to have until the end of the football day (which includes five straight showings of the same Sportscenter with highlights of the same exact games you watched all day) are grunts through a mouthful of food which can only be understood by other males, also stuffing their faces, also watching the Texans/Bengals game. So there is obviously a huge argument in the making. It starts when the girl wakes the guy up before the five minute warning to kick-off, probably three full hours before that, talking crazy like “we can make it back from the mall before halftime” while the guy pretends to still be asleep, which is a plan failing miserably.
Then the woman decides to break the rules and play dirty – she uses sex as a weapon, starts to whisper in the ear, rub places, and smell really good. Most of the time (99.995% to be exact) the guy gives in to sex for a day of quilt-browsing only to hear from all the guys at the water cooler the next day about David Carr’s interception with five seconds left in the game. That just shows the power of a woman’s smell, no perfume necessary. That’s the thing women don’t totally realize – outside nasal stimuli is unnecessary. Females just smell good, only one female in my life hasn’t smelled good, course she might be the only one who never bathed but she smelled like rotten tuna and sat next to me all of fourth grade. Regardless of the shampoo and body wash, try smelling a woman right on the side of the neck. It never fails, they always smell like womanly goodness.
The man ultimately is brought over to the woman’s side with all of her convincing. He regrets the decision at key points throughout the day like kickoff, Sportscenter and the time when we would hold off going to the bathroom for half an hour because the game is going into overtime. The man overall his happy with his decision because football can’t make your knees weak with its smile, melt your heart with a compliment or keep you warm at night. Those are ultimately the most important things on Sunday, or any day for that matter.