I have played backgammon with a lot of men. No, that is not a euphemism. I love backgammon. And I love men. You’d think it would be as satisfying a combo as port and chocolate. The problem is that most men (in my experience) seem to be uncomfortable when they are beat by a girl. Therefore, when I am doing well, I encounter a lot of “Damn, you are so lucky. Doubles again! You are seriously the luckiest person I’ve ever played with!”
Of course, there is an element of luck, but come on, man. If I am repeatedly kicking your ass, then maybe give me a little credit. My husband is no different. When he said I was lucky one time too many times, I got so pissed off I slept on the couch.
It's the only time either one of us has slept on the couch (unless it was due to falling asleep watching Seinfeld reruns). We have a relatively harmonious relationship. Besides backgammon, the only other recurring source of contention between us is the English language.
He is Australian and, therefore, takes pride that his English is more closely related to the Queen’s English. I am an English teacher and take pride in the fact that I know when something is a matter of you say tomaito/I say tomahto and when it's an error. Therefore, we both always think we are right. (But I usually am.)
The other day, I was peeking over his shoulder while he was writing a work email. I saw that he had written that he wanted to inquire about something. “Honey, I think that’s supposed to be enquire,” I said. He disagreed, so I went straight to Google to prove him wrong.
What I found was very unsatisfying: we were both right. The British and Aussies tend to use inquire, while Americans tend to use enquire.
Okay, so he got lucky with that one.