Sundays with Mark Sanchez...

Sunday started at Starbucks, then it found a book store, then the Jets game, and then a Jets win. That Sunday really knows how to do it up right, which is good 'cause I'm losing faith in Saturdays.

This was never an NFL house...never, until Zoey arrived and transformed us all into easy Sunday people. Friday nights are for whatever we can scrounge together...Saturdays are for adventures...but Sundays, those quiet and relaxed Sundays are made for doing nothing. That illusive nothing has more often than not included NFL football since Zoey came to stay.

We decided on draft day one year and a half ago that whoever drafted Mark Sanchez was going to be our team as we entered into these Sundays spent together. It was an experiment of sorts. We would have no connection to the team other than Sanchez, but then those New York Jets started getting good...and then our old friend Braylon Edwards ended up a Jet...and then they got really exciting to go along with the really good, and now Sundays are just about the most fun of every week. We quietly go about our business, we drink coffee, we eat breakfast and devour lunch, and we watch football. We play and nap and don't aspire to much more than being together. It's pretty laid back, until the Jets win, and then it gets stupid. Zoey dances, Dad jumps for joy, and Mom laughs at us both. What do you do on Sunday? We've become our own version of church except without all the guilt and singing. Well, some singing. Mostly Twinkle Twinkle Little Star which doesn't really have anything to do with the New York Jets but we sing it anyway 'cause it's fun, and because Zoey usually butchers it. She sure isn't Israel Kamakawiwoʻole but she tries.