Luxury, thy name is Girlie

So my buddy H. had extra tickets to see the Tampa Bay Buccaneers play against Arizona yesterday. Since my hubby was headed out of town, I took Girlie and we had a blast. Was it because Girlie is a Bucs fan? No. She doesn't know the first thing about football. Was it because she got to eat hot dogs, drink beer, and shout profanities? No. She's eight. It was because the tickets were to a luxury box and we got picked up in a limo. She loved the limo ride, needless to say, although she was concerned about the lack of seatbelts. And she is old enough and girl enough to love the fact that we had a private bathroom in the suite. She watched about ten seconds of the game and spent the rest of the time curled up in a comfy chair reading a book called, Who Were The Beatles? (Paul is her favorite.) The helmet full of ice cream was a hit too. I got to watch the whole game and we even won. The weather was glorious, I might add. We're into our best time of year in Florida. The only downside to the whole day is the fact that the bar has now been set impossibly high for Girlie when it comes to sporting events. I feel sorry for her future boyfriends. I hope she dates a poet.