I’ve always been a little competitive. For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to win. To be the best. The favorite. Top choice. However you want to say it. I can’t stand the thought that someone else might be a little better than me. Not the most Christ-like attitude, yes, I know. I’m just being honest.
My husband might say my competitiveness goes so far as to compel me to do whatever it takes to win. He refuses to trust me with a board game. Yes, I admit, in college my best friend and I did manage to win at Battle of the Sexes by adjusting the cards in our favor. That’s all.
I have been good ever since.
So Saturday, when the time came to carve our pumpkins for Halloween, of course my competitive nature reared its ugly head again and I wanted to have the best pumpkin. Having a six month old around, though, doesn’t lend itself to competitiveness. True, she slept most of the time we carved pumpkins, but once I accidently broke off my pumpkin’s teeth I knew my chance of “winning” the Great Pumpkin award was over.
Judge for yourself…can you tell which is mine & which is John’s?