Mr. (and Ms.) Faux Pas

Daltonboy has a history of saying things to me that would offend a lesser woman. I'll give you just a couple of them here, with the caviat that they really lose their effectiveness in the retelling, but you'll get the idea.

Story Number One

Setting: First Sunday of the New Year. The kids are going back to school in the morning, and I'm looking at my new schedule, wondering what I'm going to do with all this time alone. We're sitting around the dinner table.

Me: So, what should I do tomorrow?"

Daltonboy: Go to the gym?

Me: Are you saying I'm . . .

Daltonboy (interrupts): No!

Then I laughed and laughed, because the second he said the thing about going to the gym, his eyes got wide and he started staring into space like a deer caught in the headlights, and I could tell he was hoping against hope that I wouldn't pick up on what he'd just said. Too bad for him.

Story Number Two

Setting: A yard sale. I pick up a video that someone is selling for 75 cents. It's on Thai cooking. DB served a mission in Thailand, and we all love Thai food, but I only have a few good recipes. I'm thinking a video might be fun.

Me: Should I get this?

Daltonboy: Do you want it?

Me: Well, maybe it would give me some new ideas.

Daltonboy (considers--every purchase, no matter how small, must be considered at length): Well . . . it couldn't h-- . . . uh . . . shoot!

Me (feigning indignation): What was that? It couldn't hurt? Are you saying my cooking couldn't get any worse? Is that what you're saying?

Daltonboy: No! That's not what I'm saying. That's why I stopped.

And at this point we were laughing so hard we couldn't continue the conversation, so we threw 75 cents at the lady and ran gasping to the car.

Daltonboy worships me for my quick wit and smooth tongue. He envies me. That is why what happened last night brought him so much pleasure.

Story Number Three

Setting: Family game night, playing Quiddler. It should be noted that DB hates word games. They're just not his thing. When we play Boggle Deluxe together, his goal is to avoid having me triple his score. I love word games. So I spend a lot of time looking around for games that everyone might be good at, but that will still be challenging and fun. This rules out Lola's favorites, which are Life and Monopoly. I thought Quiddler might have been the answer. Maybe it is. DB did very well--so well, in fact, that this happened about 2/3 of the way into the game.

Me: Uh . . . I hate to admit this, but I have a little problem with the scores.

Daltonboy: What happened?

Me (counfusedly): Well, it seems that at some point, I started writing my scores in your column, and your scores in mine. And I can't figure out where I went wrong.

At this point, I felt my face begin to get very hot. At the same time, everyone started laughing. Hard.

Daltonboy: So you're saying that you started putting your scores in my column, because my scores were higher, and you just assumed they were yours?

Me (sheepishly): Well . . . uhhh. . . no . . . maybe . . . I know we were tied at one point . . . maybe I can figure it out from there.

And then I had to give up, because everyone was laughing so hard and making comments about how conceited I am. Only Lola didn't laugh, because she felt sorry for me. I appreciate that, but as I pointed out, if you can't laugh at yourself, you're in a world of hurt. So I laughed too.

I think what daltonboy experienced was something like total vindication. And maybe there's a word game that he will enjoy playing with me. Only next time, I bet he offers to keep score. That's fine. I'm keeping score too. DB: 10, DG: 1 Hah!

Note: If you've played Quiddler online and found it too difficult, get it anyway. The group game is much more fun than the solitaire version.