I Love You Brett Favre (But I Love My Husband More)

Wooo, yeah, my fourth blog, hand claps, high fives, woooo woooo........oh, wait, no, I can't do this. Its really hot today. Really really hot. And I'm from England. Where it rains. A lot. And in the Summer you still need a jacket in the evening. Civilized weather.

In lieu of having an experience outside of my office I would like to talk about Brett Favre. Unfortunately it was not Brett who chatted me up on Monday. Would my life be different if it had been? I can tell you, unequivocally, no. Because Brett Favre is fantastic, and gorgeous and heroic, and throws football with broken thumbs. And I love that. Excuse me, show me a woman who doesn't. Sure, he's had his "issues" but that just adds to the appeal. Bad boy made good. And he's getting on in years, and his beard is turning grey. God, the man just keeps getting better.

But I know somebody else like that. And that's what I'm going to talk about. How I am married to my very own "Brett Favre".

My husband played football in school (so did Brett)
My husband has 2 daughters (so does Brett)
My hubsand is fantastic and gorgeous (so is Brett)
My husband plays football every single day on his playstation (almost like Brett)
My husband is focused mentally and physically for the start of the season by reading every single football website/blog/magazine available so that he can be at the top of his (fantasy) game and maybe win a case of beer (just like Brett who's been training probably not even that much)
My husband has maintained his weight from last year (almost the same as Brett's beautiful 220 pounds)
My husband is married to a strong, supportive, fiercely loyal woman (exactly like Brett)
My husband knows that his football career may be coming to an end so he's working on broadcast stuff (just like we know Brett must be)

As quoted in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel today "He's made the committment to do everything he possibly could to get himself ready for the season. His work ethic makes this program work". They mean Brett by the way, not my husband.

Try this experiment. Instead of looking at you husband tonight over dinner, and wondering why in God's good earth isnt' he more like John Stamos or whoever floats your boat, try and find the similarities between hubby and the object of your desires. They are there, bubbling under the surface just waiting to be discovered. And they are all yours.