Tuesday, February 3, 2009

The Man Spa

The Superbowl's first quarter is nearly finished when the DNB walks downstairs carrying some bath oil and a towel.

He disappears into the basement and reappears with my foot spa, filled with warm water.

I'm talking about something, probably complaining about how idiotic John Madden's commentary is, and the sight makes me stop mid-sentence. Because I know he has not done all this for me.

The DNB gives me the "rock" symbol as he settles into the couch and dips his feet daintily into the sudsy water. "It's okay. I'm watching football," he argues preemptively. "That's manly!"

He barely manages to regrow his pair by snickering every time Al Michaels mentions Steve Breaston.

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