I love the Olympics. Dearly. Deeply. Nerdily. And yet I am so glad they will be done this Sunday. Why? Because I have gotten NOTHING done since they started. Nothing. As soon as Emmie’s little head hits the mattress, I head straight downstairs and celebrate the pinnacle of what the human body can achieve by sitting on my ass in front of the TV for 4 hours straight, usually while eating ice cream, popcorn or chocolate. I can’t even bestir myself to fold the laundry that’s sitting 10 feet away.
So when the Olympic athletes depart London on Sunday, my kitchen, my laundry, my blog, and my husband will all raise a cheer (Emmie still gets attention because she DEMANDS it. Also, she helps me cheer on the swimmers and the volleyball players with her tinny hands clapping. She likes the splashing and loves watching the ball).
In the meantime, I will cherish my little break in front of the TV (I’ve now seen as much live TV as I have in the past 4 years), I will marvel at the skill of the athletes, I will cheer for tiny countries who celebrate their 12th place finish, I will enjoy sports I’ve never even heard of, and I will celebrate this rare moment of (relative) world unity.
Citius, Altius, Fortius!