My husband is obsessed.
If he’s not engaging in it, he’s watching it. Or thinking about it. Or often talking about it.
Sometimes he’ll even abruptly stop whatever he is doing and request that I assume a prone position on the floor so that he can test out some new idea.
And I begrudgingly acquiesce.
Not because I care at all about Brazilian Ju Jitsu.
But because I care about my husband.
Ju Jitsu (BJJ) is simply the latest in a string of martial arts mistresses that my husband has courted since his teenage years. And she is currently tempting him with a black belt held at such a distance that he will reach it in the next couple months.
I’ve never shared his passion for BJJ or any of the marital arts. I respect them. I appreciate them. But they hold no particular allure for me.
But it’s about to get interesting.
Somehow, while watching season 4 of American Horror Story last night, we struck a deal.
I attend three BJJ classes.
And in return, he will engage in four activities of my choosing.
The ground rules were established:
- Open minds must be maintained.
- Bitching will be kept to a minimum.
- The time exchange should be comparable (Ex. 1 1/2 hours BJJ does not equate to 8 hours of tiptoeing through the tulips – not that I’d want to spend a day tiptoeing through tulips anyways).
This could get interesting.
Although we share many common interests (hello, Korn concert this week!), we also have significant areas of our lives where there is little overlap. Parts of our worlds that are largely unknown to the other (although I’ve seen more of his world – both work and play – than he has seen of mine).
I’ve watched enough BJJ to last me a lifetime. But now I have to get on the mat and face the constrictor-like art personally.
Wish me luck.
As for his activities, I immediately decided that I want him to accompany me to the botanical gardens.
And maybe visit a local museum that has an awesome Egyptian exhibit as part of its permanent collection.
But for him to really see my world, I would need to get him into the school. So that he can experience the intensity of 1500 middle schoolers in a contained environment. In these days of increased school security and filled-to-the-brim curriculum, that’s easier said than done.
But I have an idea. My school puts on an amazing Veteran’s Day assembly where students are able to invite relatives who have served. And my husband has served.
He can be honored for his time in the military.
And experience the deafening roar and barely-contained energy of 1500 120-lb hormonal 2-year-olds (what I always compare my students to) in a school gym.
Oh yeah, this could get interesting.