Ahh, the Super Bowl. Glorious end to football season, you are welcome in my home. I am ready to reclaim my Sundays, my Monday nights, and the occasional Thursday evening. I am tired of shushing my children, shoeing them out of the way of the TV. I am tired of the endless inane drone of the sportscasters, who mix their metaphors and misuse words. I am tired of the arguments over which team is better, who deserves to win, the endless speculation. I am ready for the occasional romantic comedy or cake-off to grace my 50 inch plasma screen. Or, better yet, to turn off the television off once in a while and get out of the house, perhaps for a stroll around Lowe's or the mall or dinner at Chili's instead. A change of pace would be nice, not knowing what my Sunday plans are weeks in advance and the flexibility to change them would be refreshing. I am ready for you, Super Bowl. And I am ready to bid you adieu. Until next year.