Sore Loser

Losing is inevitable.  It’s not fun, but it’s a fact of life.  Mr. Hyde was a loser this past weekend; he lost a couple of fantasy football games to his brothers, the two football teams he watches on TV lost their games and our bowling team lost two out of three games.  My parents took great pains to teach me not to be a sore loser. 

Now and then I’m upset or disappointed when I don’t win, but I accept it and move on; it doesn’t affect my mood for more than a few minutes and it certainly doesn’t cause me to stop caring about everyone or everything around me.

Not so with Mr. Hyde.  A loss can devastate his mood for days at a time.  He sulks and loudly complains about how unfair the world is, how people who work hard are never rewarded while lazy people get everything they want...yes, your basic temper tantrum in adult form.

When I came home this weekend I had been through quite a trip and was looking forward to arriving home.  I had hoped for a welcoming hug or kiss to let me know he had missed me and was glad I was home.  Not unreasonable, right?  Well, I haven’t been touched in the two days since I’ve returned.  

He was so depressed about his "losses" this weekend that when I came home, the house was dark.  I found him lying on our bed in his pajamas.  Never mind the fact that we were expected at bowling and were running late; his sports teams had lost so he didn’t feel good. 

He got upset when I asked why he was in bed.  How could I be so insensitive?  He was a "loser" all weekend so I should have been more understanding.  How dare I expect a hug, kiss or welcome home when he was depressed?  Silly me! I don’t know what I was thinking...