Today Sao Paulo is playing against Athletico. It is the finals. Hubs has put aside all plans to mow the lawn (going on 3 weeks now) and is reluctantly ironing our clothes. The ironing board is positioned 5 feet in front of the t.v. Silence is expected in the house. The red and yellow cards are laid out on the coffee table. Again. I have been cited for infractions already. Once for asking which color belonged to which team. Got a yellow card for that. Another time for commenting on the severity of a head butt to the cheek that a player received. Red card for that one accompanied by a loud whistle and direct eye contact. What is normally considered cute by hubs, me indiscriminately repeating Portuguese words while watching Brazilian shows, is now strictly forbidden. My parents have just arrived. Payback is in sight. Hubs has never dared to shush my parents during a soccer game. Maybe I'll start practicing my Portuguese again.
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