On Sunday, I experienced the sweet thrill of poetic justice.
On Sunday, I won a prize.
First of all, let me say, I've never won squat. Except for that one time I won a Beautiful Baby Contest at my great-grandmother's nursing home.
Which is surprising and ironic considering this is what I looked like:
Maybe they liked my mosquito bites or something.
And since winning that shiny green trophy with the naked gold baby on top, I've never won anything else.
I tend to lose. Everything. Even when I'm playing Candy Land with Emma. And you can FORGET about me winning Boggle. The girls will have 200 points to my 23.
I'm The Biggest Loser.
But on Sunday... that all changed, man.
We had our first annual (church) chili cook-off. There was a sign up sheet and everything. And a prize. And a blue ribbon (which Tim made himself with his own bare hands.).
And a week or so ago, Tim announced from the pulpit that there was one slot left open, and who was going to be the last contestant to sign up?
So I raised my hand.
And Tim laughed. And said something about, this is painful.
And people made jokes about whether or not I was going to buy a can opener for my pot of Nalley's, and whether or not my chili would be Top Ramen flavored, and how was I going to make chili since it didn't call for peanut butter or jelly?
And I couldn't blame them for laughing since I'm a notorious non-cook. I laughed with them.
I joke about my cooking skills... well the lack of... just as much as anyone else.
Anyway, I made my chili and Moma took it to the cook-off for me since I had to work that afternoon and would be late.
And when they lined all the bowls of chili up in front of the judges, and the bowls had been tasted, and the judges had deliberated... they held up the winning bowl... and my name was written on the bottom of that bowl.
Everyone's jaws dropped. So I was told.
And then I got a flurry of congrats texts while I was working and my jaw dropped too.
So I raced to the cook-off the claim my prize, and wear my blue ribbon, and shake everyone's hands, and pass out my autograph, and get my picture taken, and to gloat.
I've been gloating ever since. I can't help it. I can't believe I won.
And seriously, isn't it poetic justice that after enduring all that mockery from everyone else, I won the cook-off anyway?
And it isn't even better that after making fun of me from the pulpit, Tim happened to be one of the judges who chose my bowl of chili over everyone else's and he didn't even know it was my chili because the bowls were unmarked and anonymous? Imagine his surprise.
I just wish I had been there for my greatest moment of victory, ever in my life.
I would share the recipe, but I've decided to keep it a secret.
That way I can have people over, and I'll serve them chili and I'll be like, This is my secret recipe, prize winning chili. You want my autograph?
Or just call me Sunny Jane. That works too.
Winner, Winner. Thank you very much.