Due to a rain delay on Sunday, the Daytona 500 (Nascar's inaugural race) was rescheduled for Monday night. I know this not only because it was playing loudly through the surround sound all night, but also because I received countless texts from my race fan husband throughout the day counting down to the big event. Yes, a Monday night Daytona 500 was apparently one of the most exciting things ever (insert my sarcasm here)!
Finally, after spending miles walking between the living room to the kitchen to check the clock, it was time for the checkered flag to drop. Robby came running out in his Spongebob footie pajamas and hopped on his Daddy's lap when he heard that the race was getting ready to commence. On cue, both boys screamed those iconic words that race widows like myself have learned to dread: "Boogity boogity boogity let's go racing!"As soon as the race began, there was a massive wreck. I am not sure who was more animated, my five year old or my forty five year old. Both boys screamed at the TV as the pile up ensued. In disgust, Scott threw the remote onto the couch. Robby hopped off his Daddy's lap and ran to his bedroom, returning with Black Bear. Throwing his bear on top of the remote, Robby emphatically repeated "Momom, that god damn woman driver (referring to Danica Patrick) already put cars into the f*#ing wall. Right Daddy?" Another proud father/ son bonding moment!
With the Nascar season resuming, I have returned to my position of racing widow. Scott, and now Robby, will be glued to the television every Sunday (and occasionally Saturday night) watching cars make left hand turns for several hours. While I don't understand the sport, I have learned to accept that Scott loves it. Perhaps this year I'll look into race tickets for a possible Father's Day gift. After all, I think both boys would love seeing the race in person, and Momom would enjoy a quiet Sunday afternoon at home!
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