I love Madonna. I have loved Madonna from the moment she burst onto the scene in fishnet stockings, too much hairspray and a bad die job.
If my IPod playlist isn’t enough proof, well frankly, I don’t know what is.
So you can imagine how excited I was to see Madonna perform the halftime show at the Superbowl. In fact, I love Madonna so much, I went to her concert in Montreal a few years ago with my girlfriend AND my barf bag. I puked for nine whole stinkin’ months throughout both my pregnancies, and I would throw up any time, any place. But when I heard Madonna was coming to Montreal, I just couldn’t miss it. Not even if it meant dancing on my feet for 3 hours, 9 months pregnant, 40 pounds heavier, with my barf bag in my purse.
But, let’s return to halftime at the Superbowl. I left my house at 5:30 last night for a “girls” dinner when too much testosterone walked through the door after hockey practice at 5. There were big men and little men. It involved the Superbowl, Dominos Pizza, a lot of chicken wings, and a ton of junk. I decided to put on my “awesome” mom hat, and buy the kids junk galore for a change, since I’m usually the killjoy who puts out tangerines and vegetables. Dads Oatmeal cookies are generally as rough as it gets around here. But anyhoooo, I got gummies, jellies, kettle corn sweet n’ salty popcorn, chips, swedish berries, etc… Let’s just say, my boys were proud. After all, didn’t we learn on the last blog that if you were making a Superbowl party, to keep the foods colorful. 
