• I have been away from home several times at Christmas. When I send gifts home, I wrap one daughter’s gifts all in metallic blue paper with silver bows and the other’s all in silver paper with dark blue bows. I don’t put any name tags on the gifts. The first year I did this, I got a frantic call from both of them at the same time concerned that I had absent-mindedly mixed up their gifts (imagine the drama if one of them had to endure the tragedy of opening something that wasn’t for them). I explained that all of the gifts with blue paper were for one of them, and all the ones in silver were for the other. I told them that I wouldn’t tell them which was which until they figured out the significance of the colors. It only took about 2 minutes for them to figure out. Now they immediately call and blandly ask, “Who is home and who is away?”

• Before I tell the next story, I want to make one thing very clear: I do not condone violence.  Fighting is for troglodytes and idiots; it is juvenile, immature, and even women of average intelligence find it repulsive.  That being said, the last time I actually got in a fist fight was shortly after the Thanksgiving Day game when the Miami Dolphins beat the Cowboys on the blunder by Leon Lett.  Some Dolphin’s fan I barely knew kept teasing me and teasing me, even after several warnings.  A few days later we were drinking, he started chirping about the Cowboys again, and eventually it got ugly.  I ended up facing disciplinary action from the school, but I didn’t get expelled, so it was worth it! If I had it to do over again, I would probably just bitch-slap him the first time he said something disrespectful, that would have ended things before they escalated into something worse.
  

( I have always felt terrible that Leon Lett’s accomplishments on the field were overshadowed by the 2 very hard-to-forget gaffes, one losing them a game to the Dolphins and the other occurring in the Super Bowl. I was elated this year when Snickers organised a collective effort by the Cowboy Nation to forgive the Big Cat – our own Seth Jones met Leon as part of this process; his account of that day can be read here. )

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- When I put something in the microwave, I never set the timer for a round number of seconds. If it needs 30 seconds, it gets 33 (Tony Dorsett), if it needs 20 seconds, it gets 22 (Emmitt Smith), if it needs a minute and a half, it gets 88 seconds (Michael Irvin), if something needs 1 minute, I will Sean Lee it and then Romo it (50 an 9 seconds respectively).

- When the woman who eventually became my wife moved in with me, I made it a point to get a prior agreement that there would be no Christmas Tree in my house. My problems with the holiday and the way it is celebrated are not the point. In mid-December, our third year living together, I came home late one night after being out with the boys and was horrified to see what appeared to be the silhouette of a Christmas tree in my living room. I was furious! I momentarily lamented the fact that I did not own a flamethrower and then stormed to the bedroom ready to unleash a barrage of indignant ultimatums. She was awake and waiting, after I ranted for few minutes, she calmly got up, went into the living room and said, “I don’t know what you are talking about. There is no Christmas tree in this house.” I flew to the light-switch as I accusingly demanded, “What the hell is that then?” When the light came on, I saw a tree with dark blue and silver garland wrapped around it, a few dark blue and silver glass balls, and a bunch of silver stars. She smugly informed me: “This is not a Christmas tree. It’s a “Good-luck for the Dallas Cowboys Playoffs tree.” We have the same tree every year, even when the Cowboys don’t make the playoffs; it stays up as long as there are more games.  And yes, I finally agreed to presents being placed under it.

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