I’m not a betting man
Good thing I’m not a man, then. So husband of mine calls me from work yesterday to ask me if I want to bet in something called King of the Hill.
Personally, I think he was still feeling bad that he didn’t invite me to play in their Fantasy Football team…especially after I heard several of the guys’ wives were participating. And I’m pretty good at picking people. Seriously. Not that I’m bitter or anything.
So this King of the Hill. Here’s how it works. I pick an NFL team that I think will win. Any team. BUT I can only pick that team once. Regardless if I make it to the playoffs or not. You can never pick that team again. Ever.
There’s just something so final about that.
And I’m really not a fan of football in general.
So I’m torn.
I have to have my pick in by 2 PM today or I’m out. And I have to pick right, or I’m out.
I’m totally lacking my Y chromosome today. I have no friggin’ clue who I’m going to pick. I said to Matt his morning:
“I think I’m going to go with Carolina.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Because I was going to go with New York.”
“But…but…Carolina has gone 8-0 against the NFC!”
“Oh, well then I’m going with Arizona, then.”
“WHAT?!? Who do I go with then?”
“It’s your pick, hun.”
“But when I said I wanted to go with Arizona yesterday and you laughed at me.”