One word that has been used to describe me …. (I’ll pause while you think of your own insulting adjective….)…. Is competitive.

Anyone who knows me knows I like to play to win. I compete ferociously and I look for any advantage I can find.

This, of course, is rooted in the fact that I completely suck at most types of competition, particularly physical endeavors. I have all the athleticism of a jellyfish. (I’m actually jealous of the grace jellyfish have while being so annoying/deadly/obtrusive).

I remember my 5^th birthday party. How do I know it was my fifth? Well because I only ever had ONE STINKING BIRTHDAY party as a kid. But don’t get me started on the December birthday thing

So two things my parents never were: all that wealthy. Or all that creative.

So the big event at my 5^th birthday party was a simple game. An empty one gallon milk jug (the plastic kind with the narrow mouth) and ten clothes pins. The object was to hold the pins, one at a time, over the jug and land as many as possible inside the jug.

Simple game, right? (And maybe my mom was being a little bit creative. She was at least thinking of ways to try to make my party fun. I don’t remember my dad having anything to do with the party.)

So being the good host to the other children, I went last. Most kids landed five, six, or even eight wooden clothes pins in the jug. Can’t be so hard, I figured.

I step up to the jug. Last licks. Home jug. I figure I’ll wipe the floor with all the other kids.

First pin dropped. Right off the lip. Coulda gone either way. No problem. I can still miss one more and at least tie.

Second pin? Not even close. I rushed the third pin and whiffed again. I immediately announced we would have a second round of pin dropping and count the cumulative score. I doubt I used the word cumulative at age 5, but I was a different kind of kid, so I might have. Shit, I knew how to spell Cincinnati, so anything’s possible.

I ended up missing all ten pins. To this day, the one thing that frustrates me is the sheer inability to do something. It’s why, unfortunately, I’m not too adventurous. I don’t like to fail and I don’t like to feel humiliated, even though nobody cared that I couldn’t drop a freakin’ clothes pin into an empty milk jug.

How did I react? I was overcome by embarrassment and humiliation. And I cried. And went to my room. I ran, hysterical to my bedroom crying. At my own party.

Yeah, I was a big high strung.

(Maybe that has more to do with why I never had another party. Who would ever throw a party for a kid who cried over empty milk.)

The party went on without me, probably involving a game in which you trapped the cat under a laundry basket. Everyone has a great time. Nobody came after me, followed me, or even came to tell me I was being a jerk. I just cried til I was done crying and sheepishly returned to my party.

I went over to the kid who got 8 pins in the jug, tried to shake his hand and say good job. He was confused and asked what I was doing.

“Congratulating you,” I said. “You won the clothes pin game.”

“Um, Tom, you were the only one keeping score.”

Did I mention I was a bit competitive?

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