Sure, I’ll be 37 in two weeks, but earlier this week, as the football and weather gods were smiling over Boston, I got to act like a kid again.

Anyone who watched the game (and I’m assuming it was many of you as this was the most-viewed Super Bowl in history) was probably sitting in shock after Jermaine Kearse’s circus catch gave the Seahawks a first-and-goal with just over a minute to go on Sunday. As insane as David Tyree’s helmet catch was in 2008, I’ll call this one even more ridiculous. I turned to my son and told him about a similar catch I made… at recess in 4th grade, and then sat there, thinking about the cruel irony of yet another Super Bowl lost after a highlight-reel grab by an opposing receiver.

But thanks to a play call that will live in infamy, and an all-in jump on the quick slant that Malcom Butler made on the grandest of stages, Patriot Nation went, in that split second, from agony to ecstasy, from mourning to jubilation, and from quiet brooding to all-out screaming- just ask my wife how loud I was yelling and shrieking. Within seconds I was leaping around the room, ripping of my shirt and beating it into the couches, and an hour later I was still shaking. As earth-shattering as the first Super Bowl, and the first Boston championship of the millennium, was in 2002, it is very likely that in 15 years we’ll look back at the Patriots’ dynasty and remember that moment as the most amazing one in this historic run.

My night ended at 1:30 in the morning when there was literally nothing left to watch on the postgame shows or highlights, and thanks to a most timely of weather events, Monday was a day off, as an overachieving snowstorm dumped another foot of snow across the area. I spent the day watching sports highlights, playing with my kids, spending time on social media, and, given the fact that my wife and 7-month old were stuck in California during last week’s blizzard, we got to have our first snow day as a family of seven. We even ventured out twice, and thanks to the hearty folks at Starbucks and B Good, got to spend some quality time out of the house.

My unscientific guesstimate had my yard getting another 13 inches, and as I ran through the empty streets of Bedford at night, the snow drifts on street corners towered over me. Despite my sore back/elbow/neck today, I wouldn’t trade yesterday’s 24-hour mini-staycation for anything.

If yesterday proved or validated anything, it’s that in many ways I’m still a little kid. I scream at the TV, I dance around at snow days and school/work closures, and I can still channel emotions in the same manner that caused my 2nd grade teacher to dub me “Little Chief Thundercloud.” Part of me loves that fact that I’ve still got some growing up to do, and another part just of me just shakes my head and smiles.