You know how they say that there are two things in life you can count on: death and taxes? Well I have one more to add to that list. The third thing you can count on, at least if I’m in your realm of living, is that I’ll inevitably talk. A lot. And loudly. And most of the time.
When I was in elementary school - ok, and middle school and high school - the one constant thing my parents could count on was that every semester, without fail, I’d have at least one comment from the teacher that said “Socializes excessively in class.”
To be fair, they had, like, a list of 10 things to choose from, so they were quite limited and, if you ask me, not very creative in their critiques of my social abilities.
|Like two peas in a pod. Also, you can|
kind of maybe understand why the
teachers were a little bit
But I know that they had other choices. Not because I ever saw any of them on my report card, mind you, but because my sister was one of those who always got the “A pleasure to have in class” and “Always willing to help others” and crap like that. So just below “Always willing to help others” and “Your kid is a genius” was the not very creative “Socializes Excessively in Class” and “I wish your kid wasn’t in my class but I drew the short straw this year.” Also, it was always a tremendous bummer to my new teacher when they’d realize I was “Amanda’s Sister” because that obviously meant that I was an incredible test-taker and really well-behaved. Then about three weeks into the term they’d be like “Wait, you’re Amanda’s sister?”
I know, right? It’s like we’re the same person!
However, if I’m being totally honest, I kind of always loved getting that “critique.” Also, I never knew it wasn’t just a super nice compliment about how friendly I was until my parents would be like “Seriously, could you maybe try not to talk for, like, ONE SEMESTER?” And I’d be all like “I can totally do that.” And then halfway through the next day I’d break. It was like mental waterboarding to challenge me not to speak.
Whatever, I’ve totally embraced that side of my personality, much to the joy of CB, all of my co-workers, and strangers on the subway.
For example, recently, while CB and I were having what I thought was a relatively quite night at home hanging out and listening to music, I was telling what I can only imagine was a really riveting story about something that happened to me or someone that I knew. And CB, as always, was listening with bated breath for the next twist or turn in the story. Also, I never drag out stories and always immediately cut to the chase.
Anyway, I like to sometimes remind him that we’re “MFEO” because it really makes him happy when I quote “Sleepless in Seattle” and say or do anything unnecessarily mushy. It’s one of his most favorite things about me.
And then this happened:
Me: Blah blah blah a really funny story blah blah
CB: You know what we are?
Me: No, it’s “MFEO!”
CB: No. We’re “made for ear plugs.” Hahahaha
Me: Um, you are never funny.
CB: That is untrue.
And then I proved how I could absolutely not fill every silence with the sound of my voice and totally proved all of my past teachers wrong. And then realized I’d never told CB the story of all of the comments on my report cards growing up, figured he couldn’t go through life without this knowledge, and filled him in on all of the details. Whew! That was a close one.