So in August when I bought tickets to take Kev to Chicago to see the Patriots play the Bears for his 40th birthday, I knew it would be cold. No worries, I could come up with something cute and warm, like this little number:
As December 12 got closer and closer, and the weather man started laughing at all the
idiots fans who would be attending the game last Sunday, I had to rethink my wardrobe. For those of you who do not follow the NFL, Sunday's game was one of the coldest on record: 9˚F, -4˚F windchill and 55 mph wind gusts. These conditions caused me to dress like a ninja instead of like a cute football chick:
But it was worth it. I braved the cold for more than three hours without wussing out. The Patriots won and I received the title of coolest wife in America (no pun intended). I just wish it had a crown associated with it. Maybe some new Uggs instead?