The Tampa Bay Buccaneers crushed the Kansas City Chiefs 31-9.

The day started out avoiding going outside. The older kiddo and I took a run to fetch some KFC, because she really had to have a leg, and we didn't want to cook. It was -15°F in the sun. The Jeep warned that the tires were under-inflated at 30PSI, which warmed to achieve about 34PSI while we drove. I did stop to try to put more air in, but the two stations I swing through both had "out of order" signs on their air machines (both of which required dollars to work, which I also hate).

We set out with some minimal game food, as the game hit right at dinner time. The wife made some ribs, all in the house because it's ten degrees below zero Fahrenheit outside. We like to get a little finish on the grill outside, but I'm not even sure I could get a flame to ignite out there, as the LP is probably solid by now. OK, not really, but I also don't want to shovel out that far in the cold.

Some afternoon puttering around the house, with laundry and light picking-up, as there's a serious din of cold as the world is trying to freeze us out. I know my broken Hawaii record isn't appreciated, and my new "know how much we could afford in Belize?" has been met with extra groans and eye-rolls. But, it was a beautiful 76°F day in Hawaii. Probably a few degrees cooler where I want to buy my land. Belize was a little warmer at 86°F, but there we'd be compelled to live nearer the ocean.

We watched the start of the game. Dinner took us away early, but late enough that it was clear it would be a Tampa game. The first couple of possessions weren't anything more exciting than your typical Vikings game might have, with some short-lived drives by both teams, followed by a field goal answered by a touchdown. 

Dinner was good. The kids weren't impressed with the non-Kraft Macaroni and Cheese that mom made. She's trying to do better than the box, but whatever is in that cheesy powder has the kids convinced that's the bar that other M&C needs to beat, and few have. The ribs were good, and the broccoli turned out to be the biggest hit. Who knew?

We finished dinner in time for the half time show. We have commented on how extreme many of the half time shows have been. This was a single artist, The Weekend (IIRC), who sang just fine, but good-old me didn't recognize any of the numbers. In the end, he was the only singer, and he was backed up with some oddly masked (bandages, maybe, but looked like jock-straps) dancers, who also did fine. 

The wife was disappointed at the tilt of the game in the not-unexpected way of Tom Brady. She;'s not a fan. I'm about as indifferent to football as a sports fan could be. Honestly, I like the entertainment of a good game, with good plays and strategy, but don't care enough to get into the players or match ups any more. I'm kind of over watching millionaires play games, especially when I have to pay for it.

Before the game ended, she took the little little to bed. He crashed fast and hard. The big little went up with a little bit of grumbling because she waited until 2 minutes before bedtime to try to scoop some ice cream; I made her stop and compromise with a chocolate chip cookie instead--she took two to show me. The wife returned to catch the end of the game, to which she had to add an "ick."

The kids in bed, the game over, we turned on some older new Doctor Who. After, I remembered that we'd started a grown-up movie, the re-remake of A Star Is Born, which got interrupted right in the middle at lunch time. Maybe we'll finish that tomorrow.

Everyone is healthy.