I'd like to begin this article by declaring that there is nothing wrong with my feet or my toes. I don't understand my husband's obsession with his feet. They are not the worst feet in the world and, for man feet, I suppose they are acceptable. I think it is the hair on his toes that creeps me out, but other than that, they are okay.
He also does not possess the digital dexterity with his "toldiers" like I do with my "piggits." Yes, that's my compound word for piggies and digits. Chris, our son and I had a contest last week to test our ability with picking up objects off the linoleum using only our toes. Chris did not achieve the same results as we did, but my DNA did overrule his when it came to shaping the children's feet. Lucky kids.
I know I have rambled on about feet, but this article is really about competitiveness. You see, we are an extremely competitive group of individuals. It happens almost nightly in our house.
The most athletic and physically fit person is the boy. He is finished with his undefeated basketball season at Hill-Gustat Middle School, but he doesn't want to get soft so he's been working out. You could bounce a quarter off his stomach.
He usually starts some type of show-of-strength challenge and all three of us take the bait. My daughter loves to join in even though she is the smallest. It is her dream to be faster than big brother. I love it.
My husband, though not as in shape as our son, is still the strongest. He is attacked the most. It is my son's goal to beat his dad. I think many sons have this goal and I find it fascinating. I keep picturing my husband with a walker and an oxygen tank and my 45-year-old son running up from behind and tackling him to the ground shouting, "I got you, old man! I did it! I beat you!" The day will come.
My son can also eat the most. I have discussed this previously, but it never ceases to amaze me. Last week, he had his own money and he bought a large loaf of fresh baked Italian bread. He ate the whole thing in one sitting. Why? Why not?
My daughter is, by far, the most stubborn. She could out-stubborn a stone. My mom and I jokingly said a new toy could be developed for her called "My Little Burrow." It would not come with any accessories because "My Little Burrow" doesn't want to play with anything or brush her hair.
The girl is also physically competitive. She won four medals in six events at the Kid Olympics last weekend. Of course, one of the events she didn't win was one she didn't feel like doing. She crossed her arms and walked half of the course. Too bad they didn't hand out medals for sulking.
I believe I am the smartest, but I'm not getting any smarter and I think I'm losing what I have. I seriously think I'm dumbing down daily. I don't know if my kids are sucking the smart out of me or if my anti-seizure meds are making me this way, but I do not have the knowledge base I once did.
It isn't easy living in our house, but it is interesting. You never know what is going to happen each night, but one thing is certain, we are all winners here.