LeBron

LeBron

So imagine this. It’s Thursday about 9:30pm. I’ve just finished tutoring and returning home. My husband is just getting home after getting his brakes changed. I took off from work earlier in the day to take my time to pack for a weekend getaway with friends and also to get the house in order before I travel. SO I’m thinking (sigh of relief), I’m ready to spend some time with my man and just enjoy each other’s company (movie, chat, etc) until we fall asleep. But, oh, his brain works so much more differently.

Me: So let’s watch Avatar tonight?
Him: Babe, it’s the playoff game tonight!
Me: Wasn’t the playoff game last night?
Him: It’s the playoffs
Me: [Blank stare]
Him: It’s ongoing, so it’s been on the last couple of weeks.
Me: Oh, good, then it’s not a big deal if you miss tonight!
Him: Uhm, it’s LeBron
Me: I’ll be gone all next week straight! Is LeBron more important than m?
Him: [Blank stare]
Me: I can’t believe you! You’ve seen LeBron play before, in fact you watch him play all the time. And every time it’s the BIG game
Him; Commences to explain to me the current situation which involves, the importance of Cleveland winning this particular game, LeBron being a free agent, and something else, I really couldn’t begin to rehash….

So is there any need to tell you, that I’m a bit frustrated at this point?? He wins this time because I’m too tired to keep it going, and I give in and recluse into surfing the net as he sits next to me watching the game. And what I got to see was astounding, so I just needed to share the hilarity in it. He yells at the TV, cursing several times. If I wasn’t in the room, I might think that someone had damaged his car or overcharged him on his cell phone bill. Then there are the actual words that come out, directed at the TV. As if the TV is responsible for LeBron’s mistakes- “what the f---? Are you f--- stupid? How the hell….?” It’s amazing to me that a sporting activity could inspire reactions that range from uncontrollable, fiery anger to complete, mind-numbing glee! And to add to this fiasco, he’s texting back and forth with friends about a pass, a miss, anything deemed important. Sometimes, he even picks up calls and talks trash that if it ever directed at me, would probably make me cry. About an hour later, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I was taken by a sudden, uncontrollable seizure, I wouldn’t be noticed.

So later that night, the game is over, we’re getting ready for bed. He’s in a down mood because his team (and no- he has not stock, no ownership, no collegiate loyalty, and receives none of the proceeds from the game but it’s still his team) didn’t win. As we climb into bed, and I turn away from him own purpose, hoping he’ll notice my disappointment at being ignored, he says, “It was great spending time with you tonight, babe.” I am dumbfounded!