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I Hate Tom Brady With Every Ounce of My Soul

I’m not too fond of Tom Brady.

No, I know what you’re thinking. I don’t hate him because he’s a champion. He can win as many Super Bowls as he wants.

I don’t even follow football. I used to cheer for the Chicago Bears as a kid. For a while, I was a Titans fan. In the past few years, the game has become less exciting with the rules changes for me.

I mean, are we going to put all of the players into bubble wrap before they play?

But – I digress. What makes me despise Tom Brady is the standard he sets for everyone else that age.

Tom Brady Forces Me to Do More Chores

There’s a phrase you can hear around our house these days. “You know, Husband, if Tom Brady can win the Super Bowl, you can fix the sink.”

“If Tom Brady can win the Super Bowl, you can mow the lawn.”

“If Tom Brady can…”

I hate Tom Brady.

It’s not that I’m lazy or anything. I’ve been working 50-hour weeks throughout the pandemic, ensuring that essential goods get to where they need to be.

It’s that I get tired after a long day of being on my feet. After I’ve spent the day serving others, is it so wrong for me to want to put my feet up, grab a favorite adult beverage, and rest for a few minutes?

“I bet Tom Brady doesn’t rest. I bet he practices every day to make sure he’s the best.”

That’s nice and all, but Tom Brady gets millions of dollars. I’ve never cleared six figures for my annual salary once.

Here’s what I think, Tom Brady. I don’t hate you with every ounce of my soul. I hate the perceptions that you give to other people, thinking that the rest of us 40-somethings can do the same thing.

The only 40-something I want to worry about is my pants size.