Come on you boys in green - for the sake of happy homes across the nation, please give us the win on Wednesday!
Okay, you caught me. I’m a fair-weather footie fan (on a good day). But just because I can't list off the roster of Martin O'Neill's team selection doesn't mean I don't appreciate the greater purpose of football - namely, the quiet in my house.
Since the Euros kicked off on Friday, June 10, I officially became a football widow. I'm playing second fiddle to my husband's first true love - sport.
Between Ireland's performance in France and the other boys in green doing their bit in South Africa, I barely remember what my husband looks like these days.
Being a sports widow has its perks though, in addition to looking fabulous in black, I finally have some 'me' time, where I get to indulge in making whatever dinner I want and put my feet up for a night away from my domestic duties.
The truth is sport will probably always be my husband’s first love and there’s just no point in trying to fight for favourite as I will likely lose.
So instead, I have embraced my widow status. I relish it.
At the appropriate moments, I'll yet COYBIG at the top of my lungs and then joyously go about living my life the way I enjoy doing things. So much so it’s like being single again.
When Ireland call their green army for support, I know that I have plenty of time to myself because my husband will be the first off to the pub to analyse Ireland's chances at whatever it is they're showing - football, rugby, GAA, cricket. You name it.
With himself at the pub I have peace to work, freedom to read and best of all, a night off from cooking.
Whenever there’s a match, I can guiltlessly binge on cheese and crackers. And I can do so without fear of someone moaning, ‘Is that it?’
God created sport to give men a vessel to unleash stress and hormonal aggression. More importantly, it was created so that women could enjoy some peace and quiet with the menfolk out of the homestead.
I know I should be cheering on the lads for the win myself and join in building the country's morale, but I'm strictly a bandwagon type of gal.
As soon as the Euros are over, there will be even more leagues and different sports with varying shaped balls. All of which will inevitably require pints down the pub with the lads.
And me putting my feet up with some brie and flatbread crackers.