I may have mentioned before that I do not do football. I'm not in the slightest bit interested in watching any sports, much less four weeks of football. It's bad enough that there's a two week tennis tournament every June without the added trauma of the World Cup as well.
The last World Cup was during my pregnancy and we bought a bigger TV - ostensibly for Hubbie to watch the games, but in reality it was so that I could watch box sets of the West Wing and The Wire on a larger screen while I was on maternity leave waiting for the boy to make an appearance.
The World Cup before that began while we were on holiday in Rome. Hubbie - who was boyf at that time - proposed to me before the first game to, "get it out of the way" before his attention turned to the very serious matter of football. I know that sounds bad, it wasn't really. We found an Irish pub to watch the game and they made me a lovely pot of proper tea which almost made the 90 minutes plus fly by - almost. I made him propose again when we got home just to be sure he meant it.
So this one is our boy's first World Cup. We did take him to watch football during the Paralympics, but he wasn't quite two years old then so this time he should be old enough to enjoy watching. The games so far have been past his bedtime, but I'm sure that he will see some of them later on.
I'm not so churlish that I'd deny Hubbie his love of football. Besides which it's my chance to finish all the books I've started to read and I've uploaded a lot of shows to watch on my iPad.
Just so you know this is what I can expect for the next month.
|He's a dedicated followed of football (not fashion obvs)|