Bad News Bowlers

I have very few men in my life. Of the very few are BFam and my stepdad. These two typically come together for family events – holidays, cookouts, and birthdays. And when they get together, either one of two things happen: sports talk or friendly competition.

This past weekend, a small group of family got together at the local bowling alley to celebrate Mooter’s eighth birthday. She couldn’t have been more excited because when you get three of her favorite things in one room – family, games and gifts – well, knock this kid over with a feather, why don’t you.

I’ve never taken seriously the saying that you marry your parent. Then I met BFam who is a mixture of my stepdad and my grandfather, all rolled into one personality. Even more odd, my mother and I began dating our respective future husbands around the same time. Married them around the same time. (And, no, before you ask, we did not do that on purpose.) So I was actually learning my stepdad at the same time I was learning my husband. The odds I’d end up with someone who showed similar characteristics to a man I’d have yet to know are… well, weird. Freaky, strange, OK, I’m going to lay down now-weird.

They both try to act like they’re not competitive.



That they’re the most laid back, easygoing, conflict-averting people you will ever know.



And that may be true.



But put a sport in their path…



… and have mercy.



Have you ever seen men quietly compete?



It’s the strangest thing.



They tell you they’re not competing. That this is just a friendly game.



Don’t. You. Believe it.