Elephant in the Room

There is an elephant in the room, and it's name is "Round-Two-of-the-Frisco-League-Tourney."
We lost last night 12-5. How do I know that? Not from Mr. Coach. Not from parents. Obviously not from being at the game, since I was home catching up on missed episodes of The Biggest Loser.

Right before I went to bed (knowing Coach wouldn't be home for a couple more hours yet) I decided to check the Frisco League message boards. Sure enough, someone was already on there gloating that they had beat us.

Dang.

So when Matt got home I pretended to be asleep - hard to do with three gigantic dogs bouncing all over you the minute your husband walks in the door - and, with some banging of dresser drawers, he gallumphed into bed and went to sleep. Maybe. Knowing him, he probably laid awake in bed replaying the entire game in his mind. Or calculating stats.

Whatever helps you relax.

So what do you do with an elephant in the room? You ignore it at all costs, of course. This morning, not talking about the game came as naturally as breathing. Here's a sample of how our conversations went:

Matt: Good morning.
Me: Grd mrdnging. (He often talks to me while I'm brushing my teeth.)
Matt: So, how was your day yesterday?
Me: Ok. The dogs got muddy cause the rain. And someone nailed a huge "No Hunting" sign to the tree out front.

Seriously.


(I'll give you one hint to who nailed the sign up. It starts with "baseball" and ends with "team." I think it's because they know I'm not a fan of hunting and I like to try to make them feel guilty about killing cute fuzzy animals. My efforts to dissuade them always go ignored. Sigh.)

Matt: Yeah. I think I know who did it. Oh, I think I'm going to Springfield tonight after school.
Addie: Ok. Bison steaks and roasted red potatoes for dinner?
Matt: Sounds good.

That's pretty much the basis of our communication. Simple, basic questions that didn't fringe upon anything that would raise your blood pressure before 7am. He didn't ask me if I wanted to hear about the game, and I didn't ask. And I'm not going to. If he wants to talk about it, he will.

I just wish I didn't have to work until 5:00 and could go to Springfield, too. I miss Target.