When I was in fifth grade, there was a boy whose desk was right behind mine. This boy had a yellow and green jacket. He had a yellow and green binder. He had yellow and green clip-on tie. I could go on, but I think you've got the idea.

As a fifth grade girl, I could hardly tell the difference between a football field and a baseball field, but I knew how to make this poor boy angry. When this boy would tap his packers pencils on the back of my head, I would turn around and say, "The Packers' volleyball season is going really good this year, right?" or "That team you like, they're a cheerleading team, right?"

This usually brought on a 5-6 minute rant about the superiority of his football team which generally caught the negative attention of our teacher. Which was my goal. I don't know why this was so satisfying to me. Something about those green pencils waving through the air day after day.

Now fast forward about 10 years. I don't know where that boy is. I haven't talked to him since then. But I know exactly what his face looks like tonight.

I never thought I'd marry a boy like that. Thankfully, I'm smart enough now to keep my mouth shut during the big game. And to be excited when they won.