Ya' don't say?

Ok so you've just come across an individual who has, somehow, worked your very last nerve. Either they've stepped on your toes at work, they've cut in front of you in the coffee line, they've flipped you off for some unknown reason in traffic, whatever. Maybe, in fact, you live with this person and they've said (or done) something that just has caught you briefly thinking some not-very-loving stuff.

Obviously, depending on who this person is (your boss, your sibling, your child, a total stranger) and the circumstances (face-to-face, e-mail communication, separate cars), your reaction will vary. For our purposes, let's use the "total stranger cutting in front of you in the coffee line" scenario.

Do you say anything at all? Do you politely bite your tongue and think "maybe they're on the way to the hospital for something awful"? Do you remind yourself "aw hell - big picture so I wait an extra 90 seconds"? Do you fake-cough, hoping they realize on their own what they've done so they can say "oh my - I'm so sorry. Are you in line?" and you can respond with something fabulously gracious like "I am, but it's fine. Please - go ahead" which you'll smile about later, when you realize that you took the high road AND did a good deed all in one.

On a related note, when you do have a confrontation like any of the things I've described above, how long does it take for you to come up with a response? Now typically, I go to humor, usually with a healthy dose of biting sarcasm and a complete lack of honest sincerity - something that says "yeah, you've pissed me off, but I either don't know you at all and don't care, or I know you well enough that this will pass in just a few minutes". It's a recipe that's worked for me for quite awhile now. Sadly, these witty, sarcastic, insincere responses tend to arrive about 40 minutes AFTER I require them. Sure, now and again I can pull one out at the moment it is needed - but more often than not, that's not how it goes. The fresh snappy comebacks take longer to bake.

Which is why I'm kinda waiting for someone to piss me off. I've got a wonderful lil' gem just waiting to be served. The bummer is that I'll have problems saying it with a straight face, 'cause I'll just be so glad to finally deliver it. So - until that happens - let's hear your favorite "snappy comeback" lines. (Feel free to include a description of when/where you used it, if you'd like.)

Happy anniversary, Dad.

One year ago (to the day) at about this time, I was driving like mad from SFO to my parent's home. My father had suffered a pretty good-sized heart attack while hunting out-of-state. My mom was at home alone while my sister was trying to manage the "what do we do now" stuff and I was out-of-state having far too much fun.

Ahhh guilt - the gift that keeps on giving.

I talked with my folks today and when my mom mentioned it was "the anniversary of the day", my father kinda brushed it off and started listing all the things around the house they'd accomplished since then.

They'd cleaned out the storage room downstairs (where stuff they didn't know what to do with was stashed ... for years), they'd repainted both houses on the property, he'd finished restoring two cars, they got their estate completely together (legally), he reorganized the attic and both garages, he'd helped fell quite a few trees and stacked unknown piles of wood, etc. It was quite a list for someone who, for the past year, had been ordered by doctors to "take it easy".

And, while he was ticking these things off, I heard the all-too-familiar sound of a can of cola being opened, and then I heard ice in a glass. My folks are not "drink sodas in glasses" types - so this was destined to be a rum and Pepsi for my dad.

I don't know why it didn't suprise me. I wish it had. I don't know when it started up again, 'tho in thinking about it, I realize it's been several months.

Will I say anything? Oh probably. I'm the out-spoken one who gets away with things like that. But I don't expect any changes really. Just wanna go on record as the one saying "no - bad idea."

The curse that works

Admit it.

At some point while you were growing up, while you were knotting string to the tail of your neighbors cat and putting bubblegum in your dear Aunt's wig without her knowledge, your very own sainted Mother, the woman that changed your diapers and cleaned up your sheets when you had a nasty case of "stomach flu" and you didn't QUITE toss your cookies all the way into the bucket she'd provided, this woman with boundless love and tender mercy turned to you and used some form of "the curse that works".

"I hope", the curse begins, "that when you have a child of your own, she/he behaves just exactly as you do. Futhermore, I hope she/he knows it all, as you continue to remind me you do. I hope she/he can look you square in the eye and say perfectly true but horrific things that make you want to both laugh in delight and scream in horror."

Ask me again why I never had children of my own.

I heard this curse. My sister heard this course. We knew it worked. After all, our own mother had us and our own mother admitted that her own mother had said this to her. Why would we take that kind of risk?

Except that my sister did.

And the curse? Well - you be the judge. I submit the following:

My sister will be taking my two perfectly lovely nieces on their first trip to Disneyland later next week. I say "first trip" because we're Californians. Disneyland is simply the "easy" destination, especially if you want to behave like children - or if you have children.

Lovely niece #1 (also known as LN1), who is all of 3 1/2 years old, asked if she could take a stuffed something to sleep with at night while on their trip. "Well that sounds like a good idea", was my sister's response. "In fact, I usually make a list of all of the things I want to bring, so that I don't forget anything."

So began the list.

It was quiet for about 6 minutes, and then LN1 came dragging into the dining room and politely announced that she was dismayed to discover that she had no stuffed items from the "Peter Pan" line-up. "No Wendy, no Peter", she sighed with displeasure, her eyes downcast. "In fact", she continued in disbelief ... and I swear on my own eyes I am NOT making this up ... "Mother sigh - do you know I don't even have a 'Nana'?"

It was all my sister could do to not bust out laughing.

The curse ... I think you'll agree ... is alive and well.