A precursor to Trevor’s inevitable midlife crisis (or something like that)…

Last Thursday, Trevor, my sister and I went to see the movie 300, after which Trevor announced, “I want to be a Spartan.” This unexpected declaration was promptly followed by an invitation to “The Gun Show” (i.e. Trevor asking me to feel his bicep).

Less than 24 hours later, Trevor and I went to the Mavericks/Celtics game at the American Airlines Center. In typical Trevor form, he “tricked” me into believing the game started at 6:30 PM. I should have known better than to trust him. After all, this is the same boy that once took me to a Cowboy’s game more than three (3!) hours early. Trevor has this thing about beating crowds to sporting events, but even he has to admit that was a mite ridiculous. The pre-game tailgaters hadn’t even shown up yet!

Incase you were wondering: there is absolutely NOTHING to do for three hours out at Texas Stadium. The word “boredom” took on a whole new meaning for me. I literately found myself counting down the seconds until kick-off (if you know me, you can appreciate how truly dire the situation was that afternoon. If you don’t, well, let’s put it this way: I’m not exactly the biggest Cowboy’s sports fan out there, so something is seriously wrong if the highlight of my afternoon is the mere anticipation of watching football). Good times, let me tell you.

But I digress...

It was during our 90+ minute wait last Friday, that I overheard Trevor proclaim, “I want to be a Maniaac.”

Now, I’m (obviously) no expert, but is it normal to go from wanting to be a Spartan one day to wanting to be a Maniaac the next? It would be one thing if “Spartan” and “Maniaac” weren’t polar opposites of each other, but since they are I find myself a tad concerned. Mainly: do I get a vote? Because, call me crazy, but I’m thinkin’ I’d prefer a Spartan to a Maniaac (no offense, Eddo). It has something to do with the well-defined abs, capes and Speedos, I think…