Throwing cards for the Olympic Gold

Most everyone is discussing the Olympics. I might as well too. I have seen three or four events, about 10 minutes a time. Again, I have these tiny people I chase around. There is no 'sitting and watching' anything that is not animated.

Thus far watched girl's gymnastics. I worry for these girls. They train at least eight hours a day, eat a very specific diet. They arrest their development in the quest for gold. However, I know there is no way you can make a child choose this. For what ever reason, they picked this for their life. Their faces read pain. They are trying to be perfect. They put so much pressure on themselves. However, I am not sure if it is 100% unhealthy. After all, it is a gift to fail. This is their path and I wish them luck.

I watched men's volleyball. This isn't an Olympic sport. Too much is left to chance and the bend of the ball. I think Olympic sports need to based on physical prowess. Besides, volley ball is a girl's sport. It's more of a feminine, reflex type challenge of the body. So men sports should be brawny, women's need to be cat like in nature. Thus, women's volleyball is an Olympic sport. But would the president PLEASE stop embarrassing us with his dorkiness. Please?

One game not in the Olympics is Euchre. That is the card game I play with my brother, Mr. Hall and my holler monkey Dad. I am the type who is late to sports. I enjoy playing games of any sort, but am not particularly competitive. Overall, I am fun to have on your team, but irritating if you want to really win. For some reason this changed last Saturday.

Again, Euchre is a card game. It involves two partnered teams. The dealer deals and cards are thrown. The cards and strategy are simple. My team usually loses for reasons mentioned above. Plus there is wine involved and I get very loopy. My brother, who is a coach for a living, never wants to be my partner. Mr. Hall always wants to be my partner. He hearts the flighty Mrs. Hall.

But I felt bitey last Saturday. I pulled together all my cognition, all the communicational subterfuge that is a marriage of eight years, and we won three rounds. If smoke could come out of my brother's ears, we wouldn't be able to see the cards for the fog.

I really got into it. I strategized. I used my skills of reading people to read people. It was like taking candy from babies. There was a point when I went over the line. I began to actively use a nemesis laugh. I would say, "Brother, I hate to do this, but MWAHH HA HAAA!" and then I trumped his dumb ass.

I must say, I don't feel guilty. I am not particularly close to my brother. We are very different and have nothing in common. My attempts to get closer to him are almost always rebuffed. Plus, he has never helped me move. So screw him.

MWAHH HAA HAA!!