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Posts Tagged ‘jeopardy’

Roughly nine months ago, I posted a blog bit that was really about some marital repartee between Husband and myself.  In the post, I off-handedly used a lead in that referenced a recent Jeopardy! contestant we had watched over dinner.   As I’ve mentioned in prior posts, we’re regular Jeopardy! viewers.

Anyway, the time I referenced the contestant (Robert Knecht Schmidt) was apparently close enough to his recent appearance on television that he was still very busy Googling himself with some regularity.  So, he stumbled upon my nubile blog and felt compelled to defend his fashion sense (a Nehru jacket) informing me that his jacket was actually very popular in the 70s (well, Robert, so was thalidomide, but I digress).

At the time, his discovery of and comments on my blog completely freaked me out.  Wait.  What?!   You actually ARE the Jeopardy guy?! He wasn’t threatening or intrusive and, to be honest, he was clearly taking it all with a grain of salt.  But, then he (innocently, I’m sure) also linked my blog to his Facebook page which led to hundreds of hits within minutes and, considering I was still at that time using real names and full faces of my family, ultimately led me to remove the post and completely change the manner in which I blog when it comes to my family (particularly my children).   In the end, I think Robert Knecht Schmidt taught me an important lesson.

The internet is a motherfurkin CRAZY place.  Think twice.   Then, think again.  Then, hit publish.

Anyway.

Now that I feel ok about it all, I realize I liked the post.  And, it should still be in here.  Because it’s a big part of how the blog developed.

And, truthfully, I hope Robert appears again.  I can deal now.  I’m ready.  Back then, it was weird and scary for me.  Today, quite alright.  Welcome, RKS.   And, welcome anyone else, for that matter.

So, take two.   Enjoy.

__________

It appears that Jeopardy! contestant Robert Knecht Schmidt may have stolen my favorite suit jacket.

I mean, really Robert? Do you really think that might stand a chance at being a man’s jacket? And, that’s your pick for your first night on national television?

Anyway, that jacket reminded Husband and me of a time, way back when, that I used to be the one getting up at oh-dark-hundred to get ready for work while he slept peacefully before his own work day had to begin. He’d snooze while I showered, got dressed by the light of the bathroom and woke him gently to say our goodbyes with a sleepy-eyed kiss.

Once, back when that suit jacket belonged to me and not to Robert Knecht Schmidt, I went through a bit of an accessories phase. My favorite accessory? Silk scarfs. Tied neatly around my neck. I thought they made me look sophisticated. They added a splash of color and professionalism to the old black (or in Robert Knecht Schmidt’s case, tan) suit. Or, so I thought.   Husband thought it made me look like a stewardess. Whatever.

So, one early morning, before I headed into work, I lean over the bed to kiss my sleeping husband.

“Goodbye.” I whispered gently. “I love you.”

“Bye, cutie.” He replies, slowly wrestling himself up on his elbows for a quick kiss before nestling back into his pillows. Then, as I smile contentedly and turn to head out the door, he mumbles…

“Have a nice flight.”

What a punk.

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“They” say opposites attract and in some ways Husband and I meet that criteria.  I tend to be an over-the-top optimist.  Initially, I meet someone and expect that I’ll love them forever.  I’m surprised if they ultimately disappoint me.  Husband expects people to be idiots and is pleasantly surprised if they prove to be someone he actually enjoys spending time with.   I am a bit of perfectionist (understatement of the year) where Husband has much better perspective on what’s actually worthy of my compulsive attention and care.

But, in a lot of ways, we’re also very much alike.  We were both raised in small towns by parents who stayed together (a bit of a feat in the 80s).  We were both taught at a young age that respecting (and actually talking to not grunting at) adults can open doors for you.  And, we were both athletic kids.   On the fields we each formed friendships with people who stood by us at our wedding, our teammates for life.  We learned to be trusty worthy, to always have your teammate’s back, to be fair, to follow the rules but also…we learned that we like to WIN.

Husband and I like to win.  A lot.

So, we’re a wee bit competitive (new understatement of the year).

For instance.

1) We watch Jeopardy! together every night.  Really.  Well, every week night.  We sit next to each other at the kitchen counter and shout out the answers questions.  We used to pay more attention to who got what right than we do today.  We’d even announce a winner at each show’s conclusion.   (I know…kind of geeky but whatever).   I actually love this about our marriage.  I love how he surprises me when he announces “Ferdinand” as the King of Spain when Spaniards lost their American territories.   Huh? I love that he’s so smart.  But, I still want to be just a little bit smarter than he.

2) One Thanksgiving weekend in his hometown we were watching football with his family and a few of our friends.   Some knucklehead kicker missed an extra point to lose the game.  I off-handedly mentioned that it was amazing to me that some guy could spend his whole life practicing that one thing (kicking that same distance every time) and miss.   Husband agreed and boldly stated:

I bet even I could hit ten in a row.

Me:  No way.

Husband’s buddy, Mike:  No way.

Husband’s brother:   Sure, he could.

Me:  No way.

Fifteen minutes later we were at Olympia Sports picking up a professional sized football and a tee.  Thirty minutes later we were at the high school football field.   Solo cups of warm rum and cider in hand.

We allow Husband a few warm-up attempts.

He made one.  two.   three.   four.

Me (thinking):   I am so losing this bet.

Husband (smug):  Ok!  These count.

Made another one.   two.   three.

Me: Noonan!

four.   five.  six.    seven.

Grrrrr.

eight.   nine.     MISS!

I won!  I won!

Husband:   So lame.  Stop celebrating.  I really made thirteen in a row, and you know it.

Me (leaping around):  Oh, no.  Those first ones didn’t count!   You made nine.   I win!  I win!

Husband:   Shut it.

3)  There are a lot of little things in a marriage that couples just adopt as habit.  Who does what chores, who pays the bills, who grills, who takes out the trash, who does dishes.  Things that are accepted as “my job”  or “his job” that we just do without discussion.  Then there are those little jobs that you try to avoid.  Like, when you’re the one that almost finishes the bottle of wine and you know as you put it away that the next person to pour is going to have to open a new one.  Ha.  Gotcha.

Well, we do that sort of competitive nonsense all the time.  Most of the time, without discussion.  Because we know when we win.  And, we know when we’ve been had..and we’ve lost.

So, when the toothpaste started running low recently, neither of us wanted to replace it.   So, as we’ve done many times before, we would each eek out every last little bit of paste for as long as we could and then put the now flat tube back for the other person to attack.  And hopefully, their attempt would prove futile.   And, in that moment, they’d be forced to admit defeat.  Because they’d have to be the one to reach over and open the new tube.    (I know, I know.  Ridiculous.  But, like I said…we’re just a little competitive.)

But, this time was different.  Let me tell you, I’m good at toothpaste eeking.  I can fold that baby six ways from Sunday.  I rarely lose the toothpaste battle.  But, damn, I swear I thought I’d had him days ago and every time I returned to the sink the paste was still there.  Wow.  Impressive, Husband.  But, I will not be defeated. And, I’d fold and bend and squeeze and press and Yes!  Enough to at least make a little foam. Now, I had him.  No doubt about it.

But, the next morning, long after Husband had gotten up and gone to work, I head into the bathroom to get ready.

WHAT?! The toothpaste was still there.   How in the world…?!

So, begrudgingly, I surrendered.

With a defeated sigh, I reached over to my left and pulled out the box of toothpaste.

Opened the box.  Pulled out the tube and…

Heyyyy….

From: Swooper

Subject: You dog

Date: May 26, 2010 7:39:54 AM EDT

To: Husband <husband@workemail.com>

You dog!

You’ve been using the toothpaste out of the box!!

__________

From: Husband <husband@workemail.com>

Subject: Re: You dog

Date: May 26, 2010 7:50:54 AM EDT

To: Swooper 

Haha.

Yep.   But, you were doing such a good job working with the old one.

__________

Grounds for divorce?  Perhaps.

But, I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the one that gives up on marriage first.

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