Smarty pants

Chris has always been a smart guy. Not only did he choose me as his one and only, but he’s always excelled academically. But not in a nerdy, spend all your time at the library kinda way, but more of a party all night and still aced next morning’s test kinda way. Yeah, he was THAT guy in college. The one who was all, Oh yeah, I only got a 92%. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed up all night playing poker with the boys. Maybe next time I’ll actually study or something. Which was totally frustrating to me because I was the student that opted to follow a path in writing so as to never have to take another multiple-choice test ever again. To this day I still break out in hives thinking about choosing A, B, C or D, all of the above.

So when Chris first started his new job in finance two months ago, he was told time and time again that nothing really matters until you pass your Series 7 exam. In fact, if you don’t pass the exam, your fired. Yep, FIRED. Talk about pressure. So, obviously, he spent the past weeks studying for this test more than he’s ever studied for anything in life. And yesterday was the big day. And, of course, because I’m posting this, you’ve got to know that he passed. But let me just brag on my man for a bit, and say that he didn’t just pass it, he KILLED it. Of all the people that take the Series 7, only 66% of those test-takers actually pass. And of those people, the average score on the 250-question, multiple-choice test is 73%. And my husband scored a 90%. And not only did he pretty much ace it, he took half the time a normal person takes because he was anxious to catch the last few holes of the British Open.

So this weekend we’ll be celebrating my husband’s brilliance, eating steak and popping bottles of champagne. I am so very proud of him and this huge accomplishment. Let’s all hope Miss Taylor gets her Daddy’s big brain.