Lots of women talk about how stupid their husbands are. I may allude to it, but mine is not stupid at all.
In fact, he may be a lot smarter than I give him credit for.
We used to play volleyball as a family--the four of us and D. See earlier posts for a family tree.
We don't anymore because D won't play with my brother or my sister because they take the game a little too seriously.
I overlooked it for awhile. It didn't bother me as much. I stopped playing when I had Anna. And started back up four months after she was born.
My brother's attitude had changed. He was nicer, more supportive. It was enjoyable. We won a trophy. Until he started classes for work and had to skip games.
And then my sister took aver.
And we got into a fight during the playoff game. Granted, we were short players and had only one guy, but still. I resisted. I won't go into details, but I finally broke and told her to shut up and stop talking to me.
I didn't say it very nicely.
But I realized why my sister and husband were reluctant to play with her.
Because she brought out the worst in me. I came to play, to have fun. And I was having neither. I was mad, and swearing. I hated it. What if Anna saw me like this? It's not even a real trophy and we don't get to keep it!
So I decided it's not good for our relationship to play with them anymore. As much as I love to play. I love her more. It's better this way.
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