The Olympics

I love the Olympics. The competition; the sense of pride in your country; the stories of the individual athletes; the pageantry. I teared up when they sang "O Canada" at the opening ceremonies, and it's not my national anthem.

And of course I like Canadians. How can I not? They're nice people...and I'm married to one.

However, the past two weeks have been a little awkward. I'm so used to Allan and I thinking alike and generally being of the same mind on whatever issue that I find myself in shock as we watch the games.

We're not on the same side.

I don't remember this from the last Olympics, and he was here then, too. Perhaps I have selective amnesia, but I really think it stems from where the games are being held this year. Forget the polite reserve; from curling to bobsled to ice dancing to hockey, I think Canadians mean that "Own the Podium" thing. Really. With teeth bared and maple leafs flying--and that's just the spectators.

So it's been a little hard to get into cheering for the Americans without stepping on Canadian toes. I can't gloat over the American men's hockey victory over Canada, and he can't cheer too much as the Canadian women trounce the Americans in bobsled. As much as I love watching the games, it'll be something of a relief when they're over. This slight unease is getting to me.

I'm just glad I'm not married to a German.