Daily Prompt: When was the last time your walked away from a discussion, only to think of The Perfect Comeback hours later? Recreate the scene for us, and use your winning line.
We don’t argue, I just tell him when he’s wrong. – This was a brilliant quote from around the family table at the weekend. We all, at one point or another have sworn blind that we are the original inspiration for the television series, My Family – Susan, the ‘Mother’ really can’t cook, the siblings offer up the youngest as an offering to try experiment dishes, as he’ll react faster to any adverse effects. This is very familiar; and people wonder why my youngest brother is a fussy eater…
My actual family, not the series now, is fairly combustible at the best of times, and so this was a fitting representation. After all, we’re all right, all the time…
Enough of my familial ramblings though, when did I last walk away from a discussion only to think of the perfect response later? I have to admit it’s been a while, I work in a fast-paced, fairly high-pressured role and I have to keep my wit as well as my wits about me. To have walked away, and still be going over a discussion, also implies that you’d felt upset at the resolution – and frustration that you cannot say or do something can lead to severe unhappiness. Currently, and friends may explode into laughter at this point, I feel content, zen-like even. I am a temple of tranquility – except when I’ve eaten too much sugar and I can’t sit still.
I’ve always thought that ‘Pinch Punch, first of the Month’ as a stupid idea. Mainly because I had an unhappy time at school and didn’t relish the opportunity that it gave other students on a monthly basis. What I should have done, was approach them first and performed the ritual, before they got to me. But being the shy sort I never did. This caused a slight ball of rage. Poor Rob.
We were sat on the 1st of March, on the sofa, watching something innocuous on the television. He lent over and went “pinch, punch, first of the month” (Albeit, without any intention to cause discomfort on my part). I waited for three seconds, turned and punched him in the arm.
“I play my own game” I informed him.
I returned to watching the television. Rob roared with laughter, and I couldn’t help but join in.
I have since explained my aversion to the poor man, but from that point he has happily reminded me that ‘I play my own game’ at any appropriate opportunity. And I do, I irrevocably play my own game, sing to my own song sheet and dance to the tune that only I can hear.
It has been years since the pinch punch thing actually upset me, and the whole scene was actually just hilarious, to the pair of us at least. But don’t get caught up in rituals that you find pathetic and demeaning. Play your own game.