I love the Olympics. I love watching people who have trained their whole lives be the best in their sport. I love watching countries that have never won a medal get a gold. Of course many of these countries haven’t been countries for very many Olympics so maybe that doesn’t really count as extremely exciting. It doesn’t help that I don’t know where many of these countries are, either. Three initial abbreviations don’t help much either. Neither do the flags. During the luge, I saw at least three different flags for Germany. I think all the uniforms should now be a map of the world with the country highlighted and enlarged. Most of the uniforms they wear are ugly anyhow, so a giant map won’t take away too much from the fashion.
I also love watching the Olympics in bed. With hot chocolate. And popcorn. Or a sundae (if it is summer). It is gratifying to watching people killing themselves cross-country skiing, puking at the end of the race, while I am sitting next to a fire stuffing my face. I just have to remember to swallow before I cheer or sigh from someone falling so I don’t spew cookie all over the floor. The Olympics would be better, however, if they coordinated the dates with the delivering of Girl Scout cookies. I think the bobsled would be better with thin mints.
If I drank, I think I would start a game where I take a shot every time an Olympic themed commercial came on. I tried to eat a Hershey kiss every time, but I got really sick and ran out of kisses. I need to think of something else.
I’ve been trying to watch it with my kids as well. I tried to talk to James about how he could be in the Olympics in downhill skiing if he just tried. We discussed it a little and he developed some interest. I said we could start now with ski team at the local mountain. He would have to ski every Saturday for 8 weeks. We would have to leave here at 7:30am to get him to the mountain in time and pick him up at 2pm. We would have to travel a few times to meets and it would get worse every year. I contemplated what I would have to do for my son to be an Olympian and decided it would just be easier to share my Hershey kisses with him. If he really wants a gold medal, I’ll buy him one for his 18th birthday.
Ok. I must go. They are at the finish line for cross country skiing. The women do not look pretty. I believe Sweden (I know where that is) is neck to neck with Estonia (I know which continent that is). Sweden won. Then she lied down and puked. Time to open a new bag of M&M’s.