There is many things that parents do for their children. They bathe them. They feed them. They shower them with gifts. They order them naughty movies while they are low on cash in a Christian College awaiting their certified copy that they are a reverend to arrive via Billy Graham School of Evangelizers. What I dont expect from my mom is for her to pull a classless move. Linda, let's just call her Linda because that is her name, is texting me that she wants Tebow to play and the Jets to win. Well, after hanging up on that hag of a woman, I did some thinking. First question: why is she so terrible? I mean really? Mom's often have the dumbest haircuts. "Oh, going curly again today? Way to keep it fresh, Linda. Dont mind the fact that I bought you those damn tickets. Dont mind the fact that I weep on most Sundays." "But honey," she says with her super annoying voice, "I've watched Tebow since he was in college. He circumcises children in the Philippines." Yawn. If I had a nickel for every child that I circumcised in the Philippines, I still wouldn't give a damn that Tebow went there. I put up with the years of awful birthday cakes, the terrible attempts at meatloaf, and the overly fried chicken. Now that I am adult, I will not sit by and watch her preemptively cheer for a bro that has hurt ribs. As the old saying goes, he that has hurt ribs, let them die. It's not me that is saying that, nephews. It was the old saying. Tradition matters. Let Tebow die, or I might. F you, mom. Your gravy sucks.