Monday, July 13, 2009

My Husband, The ___ (Fill-in-the-Blank).

I appreciate a man with a large sense of self confidence, but sometimes I wonder if Chris' far exceeds his peers. He has, on countless occasions, tried to convince me that he could have played professional tennis. Granted, he was state tennis champion or something in New Hampshire when he was in high school, but if his parents only sent him to camp in Florida blah, blah, blah, he'd be getting ready for the US Open right now. He's also claimed that he could go pro in golf, pool, petanque, baseball, frisbee golf, and on and on if only he had the time to practice and foster the skill required. The thing that is most irritating though is that he is actually very good at all of these things. The only sport he's ever admitted to being less than average at is soccer.


Was he Pujols before Pujols? Federer before Federer?

Chris knows these delusions of grandeur irk me to no end. We often end up having full blown arguments because I find it absolutely ludicrous that he thinks that he could play golf with the likes of Lefty and Tiger. And he just continues to fuel my frustration with even more far fetched statements of his capabilities.

One day, we were walking through Golden Gate Park when he started some rant about his basketball abilities and how he could probably beat LeBron or Kobe in Horse. Right... At first I tried to humor him, but then I just couldn't take it anymore. "You could beat professional basketball players in Horse?!? There's no way. Do you realize what your saying?" And the more flustered I got, the more outrageous his claims became. Then, as if on cue, we walked by a basketball court. "$10...I bet you I can make a NBA three-pointer without even taking a practice shot." "Gladly," I said. Chris walked up to a gentleman playing basketball and said, "I have a bet with my girlfriend." The guy immediately gave him the basketball. Chris dribbled the ball a couple of times, stepped outside of the court and shoots....swish!?!? Are you f-ing kidding me? He made it. Because the one thing the boy needed that afternoon was a boost to his ego! He couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the week.


The $10 from the $10 bet I will never live down.

His assertions began stretching beyond the world of sports. When Chris tried to convince me that he could be a comedian, probably while we were watching Carlos Mencia (because I'm sure Mencia makes everyone feel that way), I got so agitated that he didn't grasp the amount of work that goes into creating a 30 minute routine and that people take classes for this and that they work for years and years, etc. We finally made a bet on this as well...he had one year to compose a comedy routine, try out at a comedy club and then get chosen to perform. And open mic nights did not count. A few weeks later, when Chris' only jokes (I use that term loosely) were ending with "Am I right?", we told his family about this bet. His brother's only comment was, "But you aren't that funny." Ha! Anyway, a year went by, nothing happened and I won $100 so I bought myself these:


Seychelles Denaise. These shoes are hot.


Now, his delusions continue to get more and more preposterous. During this past season of American Idol, he argued he would make it on the show if he just tried out. If the show was called "Best Aaron Neville Impersonator" maybe, but the boy can't sing. And then yesterday he thought he could have been the voice of boxing. I heard "Let's get ready to rumble" practiced all morning long.


The real voice of boxing, Michael Buffer.

I guess I should be thankful though that he's pretty damn good at the profession he's chosen for himself. Although he must continually remind me that, had he chosen another career, he'd be pretty damn good at that, too.

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