Last night we started what we hope will be a Thursday night family institution of Poker Night at my sister in law's house. With the new baby (gorgeous Gia, see posts below), they don't get out of the house all that much and money is tight for all of us what with all the frilly pink stuff we must dress our favorite baby in. Seriously, don't send me to Target because I will leave there with a whole new wardrobe for the kid. The hot pink onesie I purchased didn't lie when it exclaimed in hot pink sequins that she's spoiled...because she is! And I'm doing the spoiling! The solution to these "problems"? We've decided to bring the entertainment to them...in the form of us! There's a $10 buy in and that affords us all an exciting evening of betting, bluffing and for me---losing.

You see., SIL and her boyfriend are cardsharks...we didn't realize that until after they invited us to play with them last Friday night. John and I held our own that night and we took out four of the eight people playing. We were down to the final four with his sister and her boyfriend. They made a quick game out of John and minced me up within the next half hour after he was out. Last night they were all out for my blood. I mean seriously, who switches up the game at the table when there's a rookie sitting there?? They did, that's who...and their trick was to throw in random hands of Omaha and Super Hold 'em. Uh huh, I was barely treading water with simple Hold 'em and they have to throw in the big guns...whatever. They're not to blame, John is. Him, and my awesome inability to notice that I made a straight up in my head...when I set my cards down I was missing the four which I swore I had. Yes, that's right, I can't even count a series. Mine went something like this: "I have a straight!" and I bravely laid my cards down displaying a 2-3-5-6-7-8. I blame that on my hippy school education...this would've never happened if I had had a public education--no sirree bob! What happened next though is simply bone chilling in its treachery.

John decided to go Benedict Arnold on my ass and he took me out of the game as quickly as he possibly could. Does he remember who washes his socks and underwear? Who makes him dinner and gives him blow jobs? I think ladies and gentlemen of the jury, he does not. After publicly abusing me (with his card playing) he thought he could make it better by giving me soft smiles and asking me if I was mad at him. Of course I was mad at him (not really, I'm just a very sore loser)!! I'm almost half surprised he didn't hop out of his seat and give my boob a caress to soothe me. Something tells me by the look on my face that he knew that would've been a bad choice. I guess, the traitor was only fair in his actions because on Friday, I was the one who lured him into going all in when I knew that I had an awesome hand...but I don't believe in fair. I believe in my winning, and my winning only. If I can't succeed in that, then my only consolation is through beating him!

Next Thursday, I'm going to be out for blood or money, mostly money I think. Be warned, sweet husband o' mine...be warned.