I am not sure if my youngest, Matthew, is actually related to me. I mean I look at him and see that he is the perfect combination of Eric and me, but there is something that is just off about him.

He hates football. Seriously. Hates it. He can’t honestly be a Greer and hate football. I mean it is our family tradition.

We can usually convince him to go to the first few games, but I never make it to a game past mid-October. Eric still goes with Ethan and Ella rallies sometimes too. I stay home with the Grinch who hates football.

Yesterday on the way home from our trip, I asked Matthew why he hated football. Without skipping a beat he growled (just like the Grinch)… 

When they get in the stadium it is filled with that

Noise! Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise!

Then they Feast!

Feast! Feast! Feast! Feast!

They feast on popcorn and nachos and hot dogs

And they Sing!

Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!

They Sing Rocky Top every time they score!

I cannot take it any more!!!

 Drop the freakin mic.

I am just passing the MacBook on to him.

Peace Out.