Since the day they “met,” my boys have not missed a single football game together.

Believe it or not, it began in the hospital room.

Swaddled like a burrito, our son was barely a few hours old, eyes still learning about the world. There was my husband, sitting on the side of the bed with his phone propped up on a box of wipes, softly play-by-play Sunday game commentary as if the baby was his little co-host.

I rolled my eyes at the moment, but also? It was quite nice.