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Monday, December 28, 2009


My husband has been under a lot of pressure this year. My daughter won her softball championship, my son won his baseball championship, I won the dream job, so he had to win, finally win his Fantasy Football league. We were going to ask him to move out if he lost. After months of "Screaming Sundays" the verdict is in, he won in both leagues. It wasn't about the money, it never was, it was about being CHAMPION! Can you tell we are a bit competitive in my family? Yep, we are. After like 6 years of crazy draft parties and him stealing all the computers and televisions every week for the endless round of games, I finally feel like it was worth something. I watched him meticulously prepare the championship trophy for each year's winner (not him) and feel bad that he will have to prepare his own. As commissioner no one will laud his skill at picks and transactions, but we know here in our house how he suffered through every choice, how he questioned every player's ability to advance him toward the playoffs. So though he will never read this, it is out there in the ether- the vindication that he is the MAN! You go Baby!
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