So here it is. Cold hard truth style.
Most of the witty banter that I believe myself to be so famous for….actually happens in my head. I set myself up with softball scenarios, and then act all amazed when I knock it out of the park. I lob Office-worthy anecdotes up in the air, and then crack the bat and come sliding into home with a “that’s what she said.” And then I stand up, dust myself off and look around to see if anyone was around to actually see it. This comedic genius of mine. Because clearly, I am a goddess of comedy. Mt. Olympus style. I smile and sigh and shake my head at my own shenanigans. And then….wait for it…I chuckle. To MYSELF. I chuckle to myself, because not only am I the girl who sets up her own jokes. I’m the girl who laughs at them too. Clearly…I rock.
But in real life, it’s a whole different story.
In real life when presented with the perfect storm to banter wittily, I hem and I haw and stare at my feet. My mind races, my palms sweat. My mouth goes dry and I laugh nervously before blurting out something about “quawrity assuance” and running away. And then I spend the next two hours racking my brain trying to think of what I should’ve said, before it finally comes to me and I snap my fingers all Leave it to Beaver style. Oh Gosh, Oh Golly, Oh Gee Whiz. Now, why didn’t I think of that. Wally. Yes, this is how it usually goes down.
But every now & then on the rarest of occasions …I have my moments.
Like last night for example. Last night after we wrapped Jared’s workshop, we headed out to eat a little Italian food and toast a job amazingly well done. A job to be proud of. And it was there, over the plum & parmesan risotto, where I had one such moment.
It went a little something like this.
Jared: So guess what’s new.
Jared: We’re getting a new puppy next week.
Me: Really?! Oh that’s awesome….what kind did you get?
Jared: She’s a female boxer.
Me: Really…. Is it Hillary Swank in Million Dollar Baby. Are you going to train her or is Clint Eastwood? Are you going to name her Macushla? Are you going to braid her hair?
And then I slapped a hand over my mouth, in disbelief at what had just happened.
With that, Justin quickly looked up from his truffle crostini, eye brows raised in a state of semi-shock, and then nodded his head in approval as if to say “Ya got one kid. good for you. After all this time, you finally got one.”
And who knows….it may be another six months or so of my not-so-witty real life banter before I get another one.
But every now and then, right there over the plum & parmesan risotto….I have my moments.