Current Husband and I have an interesting relationship. There are lots of words that describe our love, like "odd", "immature", and "inexplicable", but I think the word that best describes it is "competitive".
This week's Parade magazine had a cute article in it by Connie Schultz called "My Family's Scrabble Wars" about how competitive she is with her husband when they play. CH and I play lots of hard-core Scrabble (as in we play competitively, not in that we play in leather and chains and it's somehow X-rated), so I had CH read the article, and he said, "Yeah, that's good. You should write something like that, about how I kick your ass at everything we do."
Oh really? No sex for you, CH.
Who wins now, jackass?
We have been going mano y mano since we met. It started with pool, then darts, then video games, and yes, he pretty much beat me at all of that. But come on, those are traditional testosterone activities, and I held my own. Then it would be things like "Who can get to the door first?" when we lived in our apartment. One time, we were walking back to the apartment from doing laundry, and I took off to beat him back to the door. CH saw me take off, and instead of trying to beat me, he just kicked the back of my foot, causing me to launch the laundry basket, full of FOLDED WHITES, on the grass in front of me. I started punching him, and he just laughed and laughed. It's a miracle we didn't make it on COPS that night.
This is what I deal with on a regular basis.
Don't believe me? Here is a list of things we've competed at in the past year:
- Who gets the last bite of a shared dessert at a restaurant.
- Who gets the last cookie.
- Who gets the last glass of wine in the bottle.
- Who can find the remote faster (I think he may be tricking me into finding it for him.)
- Who's stronger.
- Who's smarter.
- Finishing the crossword first.
- Who can win Wii bowling/skiing/balance board/anything.
- Losing weight.
- Shooting baskets.
- Grilling meat.
- Playing ping pong.
- Playing air hockey.
- Playing Guitar Hero.
- Trivial Pursuit.
- Teaching the dog to talk.
We are the worst at Scrabble, probably because it's something at which I can beat him regularly. And he HATES it when I beat him. He gets all quiet and focused, and he starts taking about 20 minutes every turn so he can get optimum points, and I'm such a giver that I don't call him out on time, because according to Scrabble rules I believe you are to take THREE minutes per turn. (Since I am smarter, I figure giving him more time to think evens us out.) We are pretty well matched in Scrabble, because I have a bigger vocabulary, but he is a logistics king. I'll throw down a word like "Tithing" or "Redundant" and only get 18 points, and he'll put down an "X" on a Triple Word Score and make two words like "Ox" and "Axel" and get 75 points. It's really annoying.
There are things we respectfully refuse to compete over. He has finally conceded that I am a better storyteller (after years of people telling him so - he took that kind of hard), and I know that I will never be able to achieve his level of skill in breakdancing. Other than that, everything is game.
And to that? I spell B-R-I-N-G. I-T. Because it is on like Donkey Kong. And I can probably beat him at that, too. What does George the Superpet say about it? Right now it's "Brrghhhhh..." but by the end of the year, it WILL be "Julie".