Super Spud Sunday

Justin bonds with Aunt Nancy over Seahawks football and a potato only party.

Superbowl Sunday arrived in Connecticut wrapped in cold air and bright winter sunlight bouncing off the lingering snow outside Aunt Nancy’s lavender house. Justin sat cross-legged on the living room rug, wearing his navy-blue Seattle Seahawks jersey, his hands gripping a football he kept tossing lightly into the air and catching again.

“This is their year,” Justin declared for at least the tenth time that morning.

Melanie, lounging on Nancy’s floral couch with a mug of coffee, smiled over the rim. “You say that every year.”

“Because it’s always possible,” Justin insisted. “They’re playing the Patriots. This is huge!”

Behind him, Aunt Nancy rushed through the hallway carrying a mixing bowl filled with what looked like shredded potatoes and several questionable amounts of cheese.

“Oh, it’s huge, alright!” Nancy said dramatically, disappearing into the kitchen.

Justin turned back to his mom. “She’s really into this party thing.”

“She gets excited about themes,” Melanie said carefully, trying not to smile too wide.

The house already smelled like butter, cheese, garlic, and something fried. Nancy had been cooking since sunrise, humming loudly to classic rock songs while banging pots with percussion like enthusiasm.

Justin wandered into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. The counters were lined with trays and crockpots. A handwritten banner hung over the sink that read:

SUPER SPUD SUNDAY

Happy National Potato Lovers Day!

Justin squinted at it. “That’s...a real holiday?”

“Every holiday is real if you celebrate it hard enough,” Nancy replied, flipping what looked like golden potato pancakes in a large skillet.

Justin leaned against the counter. “Wait. Superbowl... potato lovers day... are we having chips and fries and stuff?”

Nancy gasped as if personally offended. “Justin. My dear culinary apprentice. This is not just chips and fries.”

She gestured dramatically toward the counter like she was revealing fine art.

“We are having a fully curated, potato exclusive snack experience.”

Justin blinked. “So...only potato food?”

“Only potato food,” Nancy confirmed proudly.

Around noon, the doorbell rang for the first time. Nancy dashed to answer it, sliding halfway across the hardwood floor in her fuzzy socks.

Standing outside was a tall woman with silver hair styled in a sleek bob and wearing a bright purple coat.

“Gwen!” Nancy shouted, hugging her tightly. “You brought your famous dish, didn’t you?”

Gwen smiled politely, holding up a covered casserole dish. “Garlic mashed potato bake with rosemary butter.”

She stepped inside and gave Justin a small wave. “You must be the Seahawks fan Nancy told us about.”

Justin nodded cautiously. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ll fit in just fine,” Gwen said warmly.

Soon after, another guest arrived. A short man with thick glasses and suspenders decorated with tiny vegetables marched in carrying a slow cooker.

“Leonard, you hero!” Nancy said.

Next came Marisol, who wore elegant scarves layered over a denim jacket decorated with painted sunflowers. She carried a tray of perfectly golden potato empanadas.

“I experimented with three different potato fillings,” she explained cheerfully. “One classic, one spicy, and one with caramelized onions.”

Finally, a quiet older man named Carl arrived wearing a Seahawks beanie and holding a large foil-covered tray.

Nancy raised an eyebrow. “Carl...you didn’t.”

Carl lifted the foil slightly. “Tater tot nachos.”

Nancy placed her hand over her heart. “You beautiful genius.”

The game started with explosive energy. Every Seahawks play had Justin jumping, cheering, or dramatically falling backward onto the carpet.

Nancy matched him reaction for reaction, shouting at the television and clapping wildly during strong defensive plays.

Justin froze mid-cheer.

“You’re...cheering for Seattle?” he asked slowly.

Nancy turned to him with exaggerated seriousness. She reached behind the couch and pulled out a hidden Seahawks blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders like a superhero cape.

“Justin,” she said proudly, “I have been a Seahawks fan since 2005.”

Justin’s jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I enjoy dramatic reveals,” Nancy replied.

As the game progressed, the room buzzed with energy. Gwen calmly analyzed plays while eating mashed potatoes with professional precision. Marisol offered everyone new empanadas between downs. Leonard narrated player statistics nobody asked for but secretly appreciated.

Carl sat quietly until big moments, then shouted “DEFENSE!” loud enough to shake the snack bowls.

Justin had never seen adults enjoy a football game like this. They laughed, debated calls, and exchanged potato dishes like trading cards.

At halftime, Nancy stood up and clinked a fork against a glass.

“I would like to thank everyone,” she announced, “for celebrating both the Superbowl and National Potato Lovers Day with maximum enthusiasm and starch content.”

Everyone applauded.

She looked down at Justin. “And a special thank you to my nephew for unknowingly matching my team loyalty.”

Justin grinned. “This is the best Superbowl party ever.”

“High praise,” Nancy said proudly.

The second half grew intense. The Patriots pushed back hard, and Justin began pacing during crucial plays, clutching a bowl of potato soup like it provided emotional stability.

Nancy sat beside him, just as tense.

“No matter what happens,” she said quietly, “we still have excellent potatoes.”

Justin laughed nervously. “True.”

The final moments of the game had everyone on their feet, shouting at the television as the outcome hung on one last series of plays. When the game finally ended, the room erupted into a mixture of cheers and groans, but mostly laughter.

Justin collapsed onto the carpet, breathless and smiling.

Nancy plopped down beside him, adjusting her Seahawks blanket. “Football is best when it’s dramatic and paired with carbohydrates.”

Justin looked around at the guests still chatting, sharing leftovers, and debating favorite dishes.

“You have cool friends,” he admitted.

“They’re wonderfully normal,” Nancy said proudly. “With just enough oddness to keep life interesting.”

Justin leaned back, full of potatoes and excitement.

“Can we do this every year?” he asked.

Nancy smiled warmly. “Absolutely. Super Spud Sunday is now officially a family tradition.”

Justin raised a leftover tater tot like a toast.

“To Seahawks football and potatoes.”

Nancy clinked her curly fry against it. “The two pillars of happiness.”

Word Count: 999
Prompt: February 8 is Superbowl Sunday (GO HAWKS!) AND National Potato Lovers Day. So for today's assignment - write a story or poem about a group of friends observing BOTH festivities by throwing a Superbowl party where guests are required to ONLY bring shared dishes that contain potatoes (no other snacks). What are some of the most creative dishes they come up with, and which one wins the prize for best Superbowl Potato snack?
Written for: "The Writer's Cramp" 
Previous: "Aunt Nancy"