I am rubber, you are glue. . .

Josh is a Minnesota Vikings fan. And by fan, I mean a true fanatic. And by fanatic, I mean checking the local papers, The Pioneer Press and The Star Tribune, on a daily basis. By fanatic, I mean staying up the night before the NFL Draft the way that I once stayed up for Santa. Watching the ENTIRE draft; BOTH DAYS. While his obsession has faded somewhat since Jacob's birth, it smolders on and once in a while, it flares back up.

My brother Ben is a Green Bay Packers fan. Not at the same level as Josh, but enough to get me interested enough in professional sports through stories about the general fanaticism of Green Bay itself.

Josh and Ben have a friendly rivalry, the trash-talking cementing their brothers by marriage bond. Given that the Vikings record is not that great compared to the Packers, Josh has resorted to arbitrarily blurting out "Brett Faaaaaarve!" in this funny announcer voice. He yells it when I am on the phone with Ben, sometimes he takes the phone out of my hand and yells it into the phone without saying anything else. When Ben visits, Josh will say "Brett Faaaaaarve!" on infinite repeat.

While this started out as Josh mocking the sycophants praying at the altar of Brett Favre, that glue-y insult has bounced off Ben and stuck to Josh. Because now, Brett Favre is a Viking. And not only that, the Vikings are kicking butt.

So now, Josh has drunk the Favre Kool-Aid, and can't stop exclaiming, "Brett Faaaaaarve!" on game days like he's been newly diagnosed with football Tourette Syndrome.

This kind of reminds me of my friend from college, S, who made fun of her friend's wheezy laugh so much that eventually she could only laugh in the same loud, wheezing manner. Her laugh became so unique that my friend SP, exclaimed, "I've heard you in the dining hall!" after meeting her and hearing her laugh.