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Puzzled by Puzzles

An intelligence test on a computer recently worked me into a good ol' case of mad.

My husband, Matt, is a puzzle fiend. Crossword, Sudoku, Jumbled Words, you name it, he loves them. I, on the other hand, hate them. Matt calls it a left brain/right brain issue. I call it a don’t care/too frustrating issue.

I do OK with jumbled word puzzles, but once I get stymied, I’m done. Matt tried to explain what Sudoku is, and how it’s played. All I heard was that it involved numbers. After that, I had zero interest. Numbers make my brain hurt.

In an effort to help with my puzzle impairment, he emailed an intelligence test to me. The average person is supposed to get it right within five tries; he got it in one. I, however, now have concrete evidence that I barely use one percent of my brain. I got 14 percent on my first try, and 0 percent on two others. I actually got worse!

At first, there was no way I was going to divulge this little tidbit of knowledge. I figured I could just walk away and forget about it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t.

All I could think about was that stupid test. I’m not a complete idiot, and this test didn’t seem that hard. I kept going back to the computer to retake the test, with the same result.

I half expected the test to ask me to verify that I wasn’t a chimp banging on the keyboard.

Instead, I was greeted by a cartoon wearing a dunce hat. I’ve been told I’m not the brightest bulb by some, but a computer is telling me I’m stupid? It was war.

I’d keep taking the test, failing, taking, failing. The more I tried, the worse I felt. Even in the shower, I was going over all the instructions, trying to figure out what I was missing. Then, I’d go back with renewed fervor, only to get laughed at by my computer--again.

That’s when I formed my conspiracy theory. Maybe it was a joke that Matt thought would be funny. And, what if he really DIDN’T get it in one try? What if he was trying to tell me he thinks I’m an idiot? Was he doing this on purpose to make me crazy?

Well, by the time he got home, I’d worked up a good ol’ case of mad. I hollered at him and told him exactly what was on my pea-sized mind! He looked at me as though I’d lost it, and then, had the nerve to suggest that maybe I wasn’t reading the instructions correctly.

That’s when I told Mr. Man what he could do with his puzzle.

After trying, hard, to stifle his laughter, he showed me what I’d done wrong; and had spent the day going nuts about. I couldn’t believe how easy the mistake I’d made was. I promptly sat down and re-took the puzzle/test, and got 100 percent.

There should be a moral to this story, but, like a brain teaser, I’m having a hard time figuring it out. Matt suggested it’s to be nicer to your husband. Nope, that wasn’t it.

Besides, I wasn’t falling for that again. Look what happened the last time he “helped.”

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