As I’ve blogged before, I have an inner competitiveness I struggle to keep contained. Unfortunately, on Thanksgiving Day, it was my husband who paid for my inability to ignore the desire to best someone.
After a fine spread of food and conversation there we sat in the backyard of my parent’s home. My younger brother, who is as much of a winner-monger as me, was wrestling around on the grass with my sons and taunting my husband with something like.
“You’re boys aren’t very good. I guess it’s ‘cause your daddy wasn’t a very good wrestler after all.”
My husband just sat there chuckling at my brother’s taunts (like he always does), but I’d had enough. I pushed on his shoulder and said, “Go on honey. Show him how it’s done.”
Watching my husband walk out there to my brother I thought, “Are you gonna get it, idiot.” My husband had wrestled since he was a small child and my brother had never stepped out onto a mat. Everything was going exactly as I thought it would. My husband easily caught him a throw, but when he went to fling him to the ground, the ankle of his pilot leg fracture and dislocated. With his foot lying in an unnatural state, he fell to his back, pale and in agony.
Rushing over all I could think was, “Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?” This wouldn’t have happened if I had. My husband is not the kind of man that feels he needs to prove himself to others. Only I suffer from such stupidity.
Learning to overcome our bad habits is so important. They don’t always hurt just you—as the new plate and six screws hardware in my husband’s ankle attests. I can promise you the guilt you’ll carry if those habits hurt someone else is way worse than any hardship you’ll face to get rid of them.