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Published Thursday, October 16, 2008 in Close-Up

No competition

Close-up Column by KATHY BOHANNON

kathy@bohannonink.com

I learned a very valuable lesson many years ago: one should never compete with my husband John, the Ninja Man.

It was a game of Monopoly and I was delighting in the fact that I had a gazillion dollars as well as a chain of hotels on almost every block. I'm not a competitive person at heart. I honestly enjoyed seeing the tiny little plastic houses adorning the board. The fact that they were mine just made it more fun.

I'd noticed a bit of Ninja Man disdain when he rolled the dice and landed on Park Place, which I had joyfully renamed Kathy's Corner, complete with bed and breakfasts.

Handing over his cash and properties, he was not amused and it took quite a while to cheer him up afterwards. When we played a few weeks later and he won everyone's money and property, there was a lilt in his step and a smile on his face for several hours afterward. I realized then that while Ninja Man loves to compete, he loves winning even more.

For the last several weeks, my husband and I have been comparing notes on our weight loss. Just as I can gain a pound if a Krispy Kreme doughnut truck passes me in the fast lane I can also lose a pound in a day just by being very diligent and careful. I am not competitive enough to challenge him pound for pound, but I think he would enjoy the contest.

This past weekend, John offered to cook my breakfast. I asked for two boiled eggs with toast and juice. "What are you having?" I asked as I sat down to eat. "Oh, I ate mine while I was cooking yours," he replied.

I asked him what he had eaten, wondering if he'd gone to all the trouble of a healthy breakfast just for me. "I had an egg." Poor thing. Just an egg? Wait a minute, I thought. There has to be more to this story. "Just an egg, honey? Is that going to be enough?" I questioned.

"Well, I had bread with it."

Ah hah. An egg sandwich. Now we're getting somewhere. "But," he added, "I only had one egg but it was better for me because my bread didn't have butter like you do on your toast." I realized then that my breakfast was in competition with his and a contest was under way.

I was well suited for such a competition. I've made Ninja Man egg sandwiches for almost 32 years and I know for a fact that there is always something else going on than just bread and an egg. Oh, this challenger might just be playing with a marked deck, hitting the ball with steroid power, clutching a bit of lead in that boxing glove. Oh yeah, it was kickoff time.

"So, just bread and an egg?" I coaxed, as I put jelly on my toast. "With no butter? Wasn't it a bit dry and boring?" He knew that I was on to him and rose to the challenge. "Yeah," he added reluctantly, realizing that I showed up early, and in full uniform, "but I put some ham on it too."

True confessions are good for the soul, mom always said, so I pressed on.

"Ham? But honey, that is way worse than the butter, when it comes to calories, you know." He countered, "No, actually, the butter just about equals it." Ninja Man's carry barely made two yards. He obviously didn't read his caloric intake book, the one we keep in the bakery section on our cookbook shelf. "Um, no, actually, your ham totally trumps my butter," I informed him. The ham versus butter play continued on for a short while until I suddenly realized that whenever there is an egg sandwich, a chunk or two of ham and Ninja Man, there is almost always a slice of cheese involved.

"Okay, just for fun," I countered, "I'll give you the ham against my butter, but how about anything else on that sandwich?" Without fear, I stared at him, helmet secure, that black stuff smudged under my eyes and a chinstrap tightly supporting one of my chins. I may have even growled.

You could see it in his eyes. I was the instant replay, the camera at the finish line, the egg sandwich ethics committee, all rolled into one.

"Um," he began with reluctance, knowing that I know his egg sandwiches as well as he, "I think it had a slice of cheese on it."

"Yes!" I shouted, jumping up from the dining table to thrust two fists in the air and do a victory dance. The evidence spoke for itself: my orange juice and two boiled eggs with buttered toast and jelly totally trumped his egg and ham and cheese sandwich. Today eggs versus egg sandwiches. Tomorrow: a brief bike ride? An exhausting two-yard dash? Perhaps even a beanbag toss? Oh, the possibilities are endless.