The sport of basketball is hereby fired from my future television viewing lineup. If I have to watch one more game in my lifetime (besides my beloved Boilermakers) I just might throw myself head first through a plate glass window...the kind that shatters really easy, like in the movies. And not too high up, I wouldn't want to break anything.
It wasn't basketball's fault. It just happened to be in the middle of this sport's tournament that I reached my ESPN threshold for my lifetime.
I'm gonna be honest here, I flipped out. I hissy-fit-throw-remote-stomp-feet flipped out. Unnecessary, yes. Unwarranted, hecks no.
The meltdown actually started months ago:
"Hey, why don't we walk the beach? This is our honeymoon, after all."
"Can't, it's a big day for football."
And you may remember this one:
"...but Carol's Halloween party is Saturday."
"When you're a Yankee fan you make sacrifices."
And now it has been non-stop basketball. If the games aren't on there is always something about the games. Thus, my self-imposed banishment to the bedroom.
Were I an iCarly character, I would have developed hilarious nervous twitches at this point. But instead I just bottled all that bitterness and resentment for an eventual, equally hilarious, explosion.
An explosion that included a very impressive remote control slam that landed safely in the mountain of pillows on our bed all while keeping my eyes locked on Corey's. It helps with the dramatics of the situation to maintain eye contact...at least that's how they do it in the soaps.
I do believe I made my point clear: Stacie + one more second of basketball = horrible consequences. Corey will be viewing the remainder of the NCAA tournament elsewhere.
To express my gratitude for his consideration of my newly developed sports sensitivities, I will dedicate my time to baking something delicious...while watching Bring It On.
Stand by for "No More Baseball," to be followed by "No More Horseracing," and "No More Football."