Cheese Heads Unite

Little Cheese Head

It is Super Bowl Sunday today. In a few hours the Green Bay Packers will face the Pittsburgh Steelers to decide who may call themselves Champions of the World. (My protest that to rightfully be a world champion, you should really play a sport that is practiced all over the world will once again go unheard.)

The excitement in Wisconsin is tangible. When Lola and I were just at the store, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, was wearing Packer attire. We were the only ones still in our street clothes. Not for long though. I am running a load of laundry as I type, containing my very own Packer shirt. And I purchased it myself.

That shirt has brought nothing but luck. Ryan left early this morning to drive down to his home town and watch the game with his high school buddy. They have watched nine games together this season and the Packers won every single one of them. A winning streak like that is not to be messed with. The green and gold beads I scored in Palm Springs were left behind because they have not been part of the equation. Superstition runs rampant.

Hey, whatever works. I may be a Dutch cheese head, I am still a cheese head. Go Pack Go!