The Dominatrix

It's kind of exciting to learn something new about your spouse after 17 years of marriage. Like Amanda just found out that I hate doing dishes. I have been doing them so dutifully since we got married that she never even had a clue. Well, I found out yesterday that Amanda has unearthed her competitive side and that she is ruthless. I went to watch her in her first singles tennis tournament. When I arrived the match had already begun. Amanda was dressed all in black -- black top, black, tennis skirt, and imposing black wristband. (She did have white shoes on.) She stared across the net, stepped forward into every shot, and pummeled her opponent. The poor lady, although many years Amanda's younger, never had a chance. After the match, she commented that she would probably give up playing singles matches in the future. The small child that Amanda's opponent had brought to the match sobbed quietly in the corner, having realized that his mother was not invincible as he previously believed.

I had heard of this competitive side of Amanda when we were dating. I heard that she had been a fiery competitor in ward basketball, track, and high school volleyball. But, frankly, I never really witnessed it myself. I had an inkling that the competitive Amanda existed. For example, when she told me that if a car turned left in front of me I should speed up and act like I was going to ram it, or when she insisted that I cut into the front of a long line of cars entering the freeway onramp. However, I was always exposed to the nice, kind, polite Amanda.

Until yesterday. The competitiveness could no longer be hidden. I felt it through the glass separating me from the court. It was awesome. My wife had transformed into a tennis dominatrix. And I was impressed. (Although I felt pity for the small sobbing child who had to witness the carnage.)