It was in the middle of watching "Secretariat" with extended family.
As I sat on the edge of my seat, heart racing, sweat beading up on the palms of my hands, fingers digging into the upholstery of the couch, I had a mind-boggling, life-altering revelation.
In another reality, one where I am the wife of a rich entrepreneur living in a large antebellum mansion back east, sipping sweet tea on the veranda with the ladies bridge club in the afternoons, watching the maid clean my marble floors...
I would most definitely, and without a doubt, be a woman who dons large floppy hats and bets on horse races.
Ever since I watched "The Black Stallion" as a young girl, I have gotten so wrapped up in the horse race scenes of movies. I don't know what it is, but I think it has something to do with the fact that horses are big, terrifying, and have a mind and will of their own.
Anyway, I reassured my husband after I revealed this bit of new information about myself, that I could never- in this life- be a horse race better. He just laughed. Oh, what a funny girl I married, he thought to himself as he pat my head.
Yes. What a funny girl you married. He has no idea how close he could've come to having to drag his wife from the derby races by the heels of her designer shoes. But, now he has only to laugh at me as I make a fool of myself cheering for a horse on a Disney movie that everyone else in the room knows will win the race, but me.