If that magical day ever comes, how will you celebrate?

For many of you, Tuesday represents a return to the work week. After an extended weekend of food, drinks, and explosives, Tuesday may be both a mental and physical hangover.

So rather than reluctantly drag our feet to work and complain all day, let’s kick off the “start” of the week with something fun and hopeful.

For us Detroit Lions fans, a Super Bowl championship has been nothing but a distant dream. The closest the team has come to granting it was a run to the NFC Championship Game in the 1991 season—the only time the Lions have made it that far. That didn’t turn out to be much of a contest, as the Lions quickly found themselves down 10-0 in the first quarter, only to eventually lose 41-10.

Yet every year, we drag ourselves back to Lions fandom in the hopes of experiencing what 20 of the other NFL franchises have experienced: the raising of the Lombardi Trophy.

You’ve likely dreamt of this day. Maybe it was a daydream, maybe it has been a literal dream of yours. But you’ve imagined where you’ll be, what you’ll be doing, who you’ll hug first, whether you’re crying or not, and how much you’ll be drinking in the hours that follow. You’ve likely thought about the downtown parade and the party this city will throw when it eventually happens. You’ve wondered which Lions player will be saying he’s going to Disney World, and fantasized about getting that “Lions Super Bowl champs” t-shirt or hat.

So this wonderful Tuesday morning, let’s all dream big. Today’s Question of the Day is:

How would you celebrate a Detroit Lions championship?

My answer: Obviously, this dream has changed a little since the website got credentials. Now, I assume I’ll be there at the stadium when it finally happens. On the one hand, I’ll be losing the opportunity to celebrate like a normal fan that night. On the other hand, I can’t stop thinking about being in that locker room after the game. That is a story I’ll hold dear for my entire life. I wonder how much I’ll be able to keep it together in that moment, how teary-eyed I’ll get, and how little sleep I’ll be getting.

Of course, the celebration won’t end that night. I’ll likely attend the parade not as media, but as a long-suffering fan eager to celebrate amongst a city we know will be bumping. I’ll likely be obnoxious on social media not just that week, but for the entire offseason. I’ll eagerly await the NFL Films video of the story of the championship Lions, and I will try to be the first to purchase a championship hat.

I’ll think about my dad, who was one of the many Lions fans who never got the “just one before I die.” I’ll remember the resiliency we all had for sticking through 0-16, Matt Millen, Matt Patricia, and the 30 years of lifeless Lions football before I was even born. I’ll briefly wish we could’ve shared this moment with players who gave so much to this franchise, whether it be Barry Sanders, Calvin Johnson, Herman Moore, or Matthew Stafford.

But most of all, I’ll try never to forget that moment. Never take it for granted. Because once it comes, there’s no guarantee it’ll ever come again.

Your turn.