My husband and I are really competitive people. Like, really competetive. Especially over goofy stuff.
For example, he and I were recently playing a board game with 3 other couples, and on more than one occasion we caused the entire game to ground to a screeching halt because we were arguing with each other over whose turn it was to read the question to the other players.
“Wow,” said one woman. “You’d never know by looking at them how competitive they are.”
“It doesn’t really matter who reads the question,” said her husband, in a futile attempt at making peace.
“OH IT MATTERS!” I retorted triumphantly, as my husband finally admitted that, yes, he had read the last question, and that it actually was my turn to read, and handed me the card in grudging resignation.
However, today at the bookstore I saw something that made me feel SO MUCH BETTER about myself and my competitiveness, that I just had to post about it here. It was a book entitled, Eat This Book: A year of gorging and glory on the competitive eating circuit.
There apparently exists in this world a Competitive. Eating. Circuit.
So clearly, I could be A Lot worse.