Off the Cuff / My Other Journal

So what, if I burned my burrito!

Who says old women can't watch the Super Bowl? I am just doing that and typing at the same time. For Super Bowl fare, I baked burritos for hubby. He tasted one and said, "Why, this is only peppered beans in a caboose."

Isn't that the idea?

Since I don't know how to make that caboose and I am too uninformed in the art of putting burritos together, my burritos are frozen. They only need to be baked, and since I don't have the time or patience for an hour's bake time in the conventional oven, mine get done in the microwave, then put in the toaster over to give them that "fancy" look.

Well, hubby's burritos came out okay. I burned part of the caboose in mine. As I felt the blushing grin spreading wide across my face, I tried hard to contain myself so as not to frighten hubby. He must have sensed something, because he gave me a sip of his beer.

I do not drink beer, but it is Super Bowl, so what the heck! What if it gets mixed up with my cappuccino! Burnt burrito and cappuccino beer. A new taste, for sure.

Right now, we're in second quarter. 9 to 14 in favor of Chicago. Hubby asks me Bears or Colts? I say, Colts. He says Bears. He goes with Bears because he has a cousin in Chicago. I say Colts because I like horses. I also like bears, but colts look so cute standing on thin legs, as these Colts are doing now. Maybe they'll pick up and run, but who knows?

The trouble with football and me is that I can't watch it with rapt attention. As much as football is an infallible godsend for most of the population, I can't help but overlook that indulgence.

I guess I'll always be a football newbie. This year, a burnt burrito may have something to do with it.