I AM A GOD…

Of credit ratings, that is.

The wife and I just went and talked to a loan person at the bank and I found out my credit rating. I shan’t tell you exactly what it is, but I am the God Of Credit. I have little minion credits scurrying about beneath me doing my bidding: bowing, genuflecting, and bringing me nice bits of peeled fruit.

There is now nothing I cannot buy: a small island, perhaps a village or two, even a half-million of those convenient no-slip pads that help you get the lids off of really stuck jars.

I shall be a like unto a prince among borrowers. I will have whatever I please. There will be parades for me in the streets, banners raised extolling the might of my credit rating, statuary shall be erected, all because I am now the God Of Credit – thus I can get the money to pay for said events [as long as I pay it back with interest over an agreed upon period of time].

So all must bow down to my credit rating, worship its form of grandeur, adore its glorious visage, and marvel at its might and wonder. Recognize me now for whom I am…

Also, let us not forget that I am a full 29 points better than the wife. Thus – perhaps for the first time in our relationship – I have empirical evidence that I am better than she. Perhaps this might occur again within the next fifteen years.