At work, Sparky yelled out, "How do you spell 'sporadic'?"
I was pretty sure it was with a t, not a d. So when Chicken Little answered, "'S-p-o-r-a-d-i-c,'" I disagreed, and Sparky listened to me.
Then I typed it into Word and realized I was wrong, so I admitted to this to them both.
Which meant I got to next hear from Sparky how Pat is always right, and should have been in spelling bees, and is her walking dictionary.
And of course I couldn't think to say, "If that's the case, why did you take my word over hers?" Or, "Why don't you just use Word to check?"
No - instead, I got stuck up in the white noise of my own intellect, suppressing the desperate need to flaunt my IQ, my usual spelling brilliance (despite this one typo), my role in my own home as the walking dictionary (since the men in my life are all dyslexic), yadda yadda.
*gick*
How I hate to be wrong.
And how I hate, absolutely positively HATE to look stupid, for any reason at all.
I was pretty sure it was with a t, not a d. So when Chicken Little answered, "'S-p-o-r-a-d-i-c,'" I disagreed, and Sparky listened to me.
Then I typed it into Word and realized I was wrong, so I admitted to this to them both.
Which meant I got to next hear from Sparky how Pat is always right, and should have been in spelling bees, and is her walking dictionary.
And of course I couldn't think to say, "If that's the case, why did you take my word over hers?" Or, "Why don't you just use Word to check?"
No - instead, I got stuck up in the white noise of my own intellect, suppressing the desperate need to flaunt my IQ, my usual spelling brilliance (despite this one typo), my role in my own home as the walking dictionary (since the men in my life are all dyslexic), yadda yadda.
*gick*
How I hate to be wrong.
And how I hate, absolutely positively HATE to look stupid, for any reason at all.