I love Super Bowl Sunday, particularly those few occasions (like today) when a local team is in the game. A hush falls over the land that, typically, attends only days of solemn religious observance. It’s a great day to eat out at a nice restaurant, see a movie, or take a plane trip, because the crowds are elsewhere.

But we are not safe from mommy drive-bys even on this, the holiest of days.

This morning I was reprimanded by a woman because. . . wait for it. . . my DOG was not wearing a coat.

It was about forty-five degrees above zero outside, and not at all windy, just to give you some context.

She said, “Did you know that when it gets below fifty-five degrees, these single-coat breeds need to have a coat on?”

She was polite about it, so I responded in kind: “Fifty-five? No, I didn’t know that.”

But really, I was thinking, “Fifty-five? Honey, when it gets that warm it’s a good day if I have coats on the kids, let alone the damn dog.”