Guest post from: Steve Delaney
Every year in September, my husband begins his fantasy footballseason. He begins planning his team in the summer, which I will never understand. He talks to the guys in his league daily about which players they have, which ones they want to trade, and they banter with endless smack talk about a team that does not actually exist. When we moved into our new house in Dillon, Montana in the spring, I was not surprised when I found him searching “Dillon satellite Specials” on the internet because I knew he wanted to get the TV set up for football season.
I could already imagine our Sunday afternoons, Monday nights and Thursday nights with him glued to the TV while I chased our kids around. I am glad that he has a hobby, but I must say that none of my hobbies compare to his obsession with fantasy football. I am starting to regret purchasing the sports package that we have because I feel like I am feeding his addiction. Purchasing the sports package is just enabling him. Maybe I need to find a hobby that annoys him as much as his hobby annoys me.
