Gerald is very perceptive. This morning he likened the beginning of knitting season for him as the beginning of football season for me: met with a groan and the impending notion of all things to come.
Knitting season means talking frequently about what I'm knitting for whom, piling yarn and knitting accessories all around the house, heading to the craft/yarn store to get the right size needles, knitting something intently for a while then ripping it all apart and never thinking of it again, and rushing home to hide the yarn with no intended purpose that I bought because it was just so pretty.
And football season? Just lots and lots of football. More than anyone thought was humanly possible to watch. I like talking to my husband, but to me football is neither here nor there. I tune out when he starts talking about all of next week's match-ups, and blah blah blah.
"Wouldn't you rather talk about this cable that I just knit! Look, I'll give you a demonstration! No wait, it will just take another second. And it's so simple, now I have a cable!"
The terrible part is that he really does care about the knitting. He even asks questions (e.g. "Can you felt crochet?"). And his ploy to ge me more involved in football worked. I'm always asking about our fantasy players (e.g. "What position is Drew Bledsoe?").
It's true, compromise is really very important to a marriage.
p.s. Duh, I know that Bledsoe is quarterback. But who knew he was a Cowboy?