Hold'em VS a Happy Home

If you haven't learned this gem yet, please pay close attention. Playing poker with your significant other can be a dangerous thing. All the therapy in the world cannot undo the damage. My husband and I often play in the same Sunday game, but I have never faced him at a final table, let alone head to head. This past weekend, it all came crashing down. Before leaving for the tournament, we had a few choice words about calling the "all-in" rather than going over the top, pissing off the other players, and allowing a short stack back in the game. Silly me, I thought we were clear on the subject. Cut to 8 hours later, 4 players remaining. I think this would be an excellent time to defer to aliases. Let's call my fella "Lee." I was in seat one, "Lee" in seat 2, "Jake" in seat 3, and "T-Bone" in seat 4, with pay-outs for only the top two finishers. I was the chip leader, with Jake a close second; Lee and T-Bone were distant 3rd and 4th, with enough chips to play only a hand or two. Unfortuneately, Jake voiced the obvious game plan, stating that he would take T-Bone out, as I worked on Lee. This didn't seem to sit well, but poker is poker. Then the unthinkable happened; I doubled Lee up almost instantly, with Jake following suit shortly after. Lee is a bit of a kamikaze (I have heard him say "I don't fold" on more than one occassion), but he hit some nice hands. I ended up taking T-Bone out shortly after; then came the mayhem. Lee had torpedoed his way into 2nd, and Jake had assumed the role of short stack. Jake's few chips should have been a no-brainer. Between Lee and I, he should have been out of the game in no time. It seemed however, that no matter what I bet, Lee would raise (or at least call) because he didn't want to be left out of any kind of a pot. This of course, gave Jake serious pot-odds that he couldn't help but call, and he kept taking hands that he would never ordinarily play. Shaking my head in disbelief, I tried to remain calm as my man fed me to the wolves. No amount of shin kicking mattered...dirty looks went unheeded. The game went on like this for some time. I was breathing fire. My pocket queens were trampled by a pair of 2s; my suited slick lost to 67 offsuit, and on it went. I had finally lost it with my hubby. Embittered, and now shortstacked, a Confucious-like voice repeated the mantra "In order to live, one must be prepared to die" inside my head. I added the phrase "and take one's husband with them," and it was game on. Eventually, a few hands came my way, and I was able to eliminate Jake from the game, simultaneously recouping some chips from my dear hubby. Finally back in the drivers' seat, I decided that I was not in the mood for head to head competition at the moment, and went all in on the first hand, with a K9 of diamonds. Lee called with an K8 of spades. I couldn't believe my luck! The flop came K82, and I wished I had never met him. A rag on 4th convinced me that I could breathe fire, and turn him to stone with just one glance. And my 9 on the river reminded me how very much I love him.