This morning Mark and I spent a few hours at the Titans training camp with some folks from his work. It was magical. I loved watching the players work through drills (although seeing them run their routes made my knees and Achilles hurt just to watch!), running plays, and seeing men who are absolutely freakishly LARGE. It was wonderful!
The highlight for me personally was at the end of practice when a few players were selected to sign autographs at one of the fences, and today Kerry Collins must have drawn the short straw. I was desperate to get his autograph - my goodness, he played for Joe Paterno! - but I am not the bold, push-your-way-through-the-masses kind of gal. Finally Mark shoved me forward and told me to holler out to him, so I took a deep breath and yelled, "Kerry, will you sign my football? I'm a big Penn State fan!" Kerry took the football, signed it, and said, "Cool." and moved on. I literally jumped all the way back to Mark waving the football like a hooligan and repeating, "Kerry Collins signed my football!" over and over while slightly hyperventilating.
I could crap my pants even now just thinking about it.
On the way home once the initial buzz wore off I got to wondering if I was normal. (Just stop your laughing and hear me out.) I'm not kidding - I love football, and I was so excited to see Chris Johnson and Coach Fisher and Vince Young in person, and getting Kerry Collins' autograph was amazing, but I have to wonder if it is normal or OK for a 37 year old woman to be giddy about stuff like that. Sometimes I worry that I was supposed to grow up, oh say 11 or 12 years ago, and I just haven't.
I don't know if I just hang out with really mellow people, if I have overlooked people my age getting jazzed about little things in life, or if I am just immature. Or worse - is this a lack of spiritual maturity? But going to the Titans practice and getting that autograph just made me giggle and squeal a little. (OK, a lot. Like the whole ride home.) It feels totally natural to be so excited, but when I think about the fact that I am a 37 year old mother of two, soon to be three, shouldn't I be less...giddy about the little things? More mature? More focused? More responsible and serious? What is the cut off age between being joyful and looking foolish?
I don't know.
So tell me. And be honest. (I can take it. I have my suspicions.) Do you get super excited about little stuff in your life? Like, can't-wait-to-tell-people excited? As in call-my-friends-and-rave-like-a-lunatic thrilled? And if so, what about?
(And just so you can see it, here's a picture of my autographed football...)
(SQUEAL!)
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