My Husband Thinks He's Jan Claude Van Dam

I waved at the young clerk at Canyon Park Big 5.
"Could you help me find a basketball which fits
my small hand?" I asked.  He led me to the back wall
and showed me the different balls for women.
I had a moment of fright when I saw the official ball
which had a price tag of seventy dollars.  Even WITH
Terry buying that was too steep. I found a nice thirty dollar
model and went to find Terry.  He was with a young salesman
practicing kicking at this hanging sack of sand.  He told the
clerk he wanted to hang it out in the yard but the clerk told
him it would fall apart in the rain.  I approached and asked him
what he was buying. He told me he wanted to practice kickboxing.
I smiled as I remembered entering his man-cave the previous night.
One of his cable channels was playing a Jan Claude Van Dam series of
movies for hours and hours on end.  He had been so engrossed that he
did not know I was there. Or like most husbands, he did but ignored me.
I smiled at my giant, hairy husband of about two hundred and sixty pounds
and thought to myself, "My husband thinks he's Jan Claude Van Dam."