When I parked my car along a well-lit and busy street on Friday afternoon, I was looking forward to a spectacular weekend. Dinner with some of my favorite peeps, followed by some Penguins hockey, a little bit of shopping, and the grand finale on Sunday night--the Steelers playing in the Super Bowl. I wasn't expecting to return to my car to find a smashed window and a missing computer. I also wasn't expecting to spend a solid hour waiting for a police officer so I could file a report, followed by a half hour shivering as I tried to vacuum out the millions of little shards of glass that had exploded all over the inside of Audrey. And I definitely wasn't expecting to cruise along ten miles of highway in 15 degree weather without a window.

A spectacular start all right.

As I tried to find the happy on Saturday, the Penguins decided to smash my hope into more pieces than that broken window. As they choked on a sizable lead, I started to get that sensation of impending doom in the pit of my stomach. With the Super Bowl looming in the future, I began to mentally prepare myself for the worst. The worst weekend in history.

I spent all morning Sunday preparing for the inevitability. I started by convincing Mr. Husband that it was a fine time to run to Ikea to buy a new bookshelf. What better way to distract yourself from an epic football loss than with impossible instructions for assembling for crappy Swedish furniture? On the way back home, I asked him to stop at Wal-Mart--a form of torture in its own. I irrationally decided that Alexis was going to be a monster all through the game and that we had better prepare by purchasing a Super Bowl Survival Kit for her.

We walked out with a new princess movie, Play-Doh, and play food. I had consented to the use of the portable DVD player, knowing that Alexis would turn into a zombie staring at her tiny little screen. Between that and some new toys, I figured she would be fairly well entertained as the grown-ups watched the game.

And she was. She watched the first half of the game pretty intently, but then started to realize that she had opted to skip her nap and was starting to fall into the Bedtime Zone. Of course, Mr. Husband and I were each vying for Parent of the Year, so neither of us was quick to head upstairs to tuck the kid in for the night. It was a silent battle of wills between two people who didn't want to miss a single second of the game. Determined to win the war, I started whipping out the new forms of entertainment.

God bless Play-Doh. It is MAGICAL.

If you watched the Super Bowl, you know what happened in the fourth quarter--STRESS. Suddenly, a game that looked to be a done deal just a few minutes prior was A GAME. A freakin' Bite Your Nails, Hold Your Breath, Fight the Urge to Hide Your Eyes, and Nearly Die of a Heart Attack GAME.

Of course, that's exactly when Alexis decided Play-Doh, her play kitchen, and the princess movie were all SOOOO 2008. An epic fit loomed large in front of us, just as a Steelers loss loomed large on the TV.

We had no choice.

We had to do it.

We whipped out the ol' Dora DVD.

Alexis hadn't watched a single second of Dora in months. I had banned the Latina Whore from our home after realizing just how crazy she makes Alexis. She who is generally cooperative grows an Attitude and Devil Horns after just a few minutes of watching that punk-assed beyotch, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

We paid the price after the game when we tried to get Alexis to go to bed. She didn't want to leave her beloved Latina Whore and threw the fit of the century. Yet, it didn't matter.

Living in the city that is home to the six-time Super Bowl champion Steelers will do that to you.

Thank goodness the roller coaster that was this weekend ended with a giant high.