I am WAYYYY too competitive! I realized this after a majorly intense game of Monopoly last night in which:
a: I wanted to kill Dave
b: I failed miserably at doing so.
I don't know what it is that is so addictive about that game. Even though 80% of your win rely's on your luck... it still feels like your realestate skills are put to the test, as well as your money management and your monopoly status darn-it! I WANTED TO WIN! I NEVER LOSE AT MONOLPOLY... I AM THE MONOPOLY. Except for last night of course. I lost. Twice. OOOUUUCCCHHH.
Both times I started out with luck on my side. After a few rounds I got three railroads, and a ton of expensive properties. The only problem was that Dave had more money than I did, bought hotels on one block and that was it... game over... I was screwed.
I can't handle losing. I am a BAD LOSER. I couldn't hide my fury... which caused my husband even more laughter, which caused me to get even more furious and threatening to divorce him if he kept gloating this way... GRRRRR... WHOA NEllY.
I tried to redeem myself in the second round. I was ahead. Far ahead. Had some hotels, some houses in some good areas. He had a few... not close to as many as I did. But SOMEHOW he managed to avoid my properties while I hit his hotel EVERY TIME AROUND THE BOARD. After I had mortgaged all my properties and had eight dollars left to my name... I rolled a six - YES!!! I got the jackpot! (We put all of our taxes and jail money into the middle and whoever lands on free parking gets it...)I saved. Dave then informed me that I actually skipped a property which put me right before free parking and right onto his property with A HOTEL. After a futile attempt at explaining to him that I didn't skip one (I swear I thought I counted right... I think) I lost it.
UGGGGG!!! I practically threw the gameboard across the room, scattering little plastic hotels and houses tin dogs, top hats and even an iron (who the heck ever chooses the iron anyway!)into dark unreachable places in our living room. I accused him of cheating and heatedly stomped out of the room. I was SOOO mad.
I mean he couldn't have just let me think I was right and get that jackpot. Isn't that what love is all about? Sacrifice? But nooooo... he HAD to kill me... TWICE and gloat about it to boot. In my mind, this was a reflection of how much he really did love me. (Okay, not really but it gave me an excuse to be mad and pull a "female moment" on him).
It was all so ridiculous that after I had pouted for a half hour and was brushing my teeth, a little too vigorously, he came into the bathroom to brush his. He caught one ugly scowl on my face, as did I in the bathroom mirror and we both burst out laughing hysterically.
Thus my point is proven... I am a competitive IDIOT.
But at 1:30 am I wasn't quite tired. I turned to him in bed and said... "Dave, you awake?"
"wanna play for round three?"
I swear, I never learn...