And I won

That age-old competitive streak of mine kicked in. With zero effort, I always wanted the highest possible score. No surprises, I didn't score a centum. But as usual, I was disappointed. I tried hard to quell the bitter bile rising up my throat. It really was galling.

Then I looked around to see how the others had fared. My better-half had scored two percent less. I couldn't help but feel triumphant.

Still, unwilling to accept that I had lost out by one percentage point, I figured, if I tried harder I might do better. After all, I had not put in any effort. 

I resolved to put all my energies into it. Physical, mental and spiritual. I did a few squats and jumping jacks to rev me up. Then did a few deep breathing exercises, finally, I tried to fill my heart with gratitude. To play it safe, I also popped an iron capsule and a becosule. I had covered all my bases, or so I thought.  

The pulse oximeter didn't budge, however. It remained uncaring at my efforts to score a century and stayed stuck at 99, sometimes dropping to 97. I did some more squats, some push-ups and tried again. Nada.

The spouse also tried his hand or rather, finger again. I laughed triumphantly, (inwardly of course) while sympathetically commiserating at his poor 96 per cent. He didn't realize that I had won the competition that he didn't even know he was participating in. 

My dear friend, Wonder Woman, who has been referenced in my blog previously, would have disapproved of my competitiveness. Luckily she doesn't know that it's something I actively inculcate in the little beings who occupy my world. They can spend the entire day lolling around in pyjamas, reading storybooks and then magically get ready in seconds at 4 pm when it's time to go out to play. The inertia which seems to escape them only for a few hours everyday, interestingly reappears at night when it's time to change into nightwear. That is when I pull out my magic weapon. It's amazing how fast clothes get changed and teeth get brushed when they are competing with each other. I don't even have to promise a reward. Just the thought of being first is a good enough motivator.

My father would always tell me "first is first, second is nowhere." I think I must be shy. I think that is why I was happy being part of the nowhere crowd. 

Last year when we participated in a long-distance race, I warned the kids that I expected a podium finish from them. My expectations from myself were more muted. As I said, because of my shyness, I have a terror of grabbing the limelight. I was happy to bring up the rear. My elder child, very unkindly, accused me of being a poor athlete. I told him Wonder Woman demanded collaboration which is an important requirement at my age but his age demanded excellence, so we needed to temper our performance depending on the requirement of our respective ages. If you can't convince them, you have got to confuse them. He left the room shaking his head at my explanation. 

I must get him to check his oxygen saturation on the oximeter and if my score is the highest in the family, I might be posting a picture of that as my profile picture. Shyness be damned.