Rubbing It In

I am not a gracious winner.

Since grade school I, like most of you, was taught to be a gracious loser.  As if we needed training to handle something rare.

We're supposed to shake our opponent's hand and say such lame things as
"Good game"
"Nice job"
"Great catch"

when we REALLY mean

"You jerk"
"You cheated"
"I was better than you."

The winner then is expected to humbly bow their head, scuff up the dirt with their dusty tennis shoe and mumble

"Aw shucks, it ain't nuthin.'"

Well, let me tell you what I do:

I rub it in.

When I win I celebrate my victory like it was Wimbleton.  The World Series. The Oscars.

I gloat, I poke, I do my dance of joy.

When it's in a conversation against someone and my side wins I insist the loser repeat "You were right"
until I'm satisfied. Sometimes it takes all day...

I stop at having them put it on Facebook but I'm seriously thinking about it.

So what if I'm not gracious?

It ain't nuthin.'

Too Much Too Soon

Okay, I'm going to vent here.

No, I'm not really mad.

Or even upset.

But it seems kind of weird to me how much technology has changed the rules of how people interact with each other.

I know-Karen-you've-said-this-before-ad-nauseum.

But I've got a new one for you:

Has anyone else spoken to an obviously pregnant woman and been told,
"Her name is Isabelle"

or

"This is Martin"

in a tone that suggests I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN WHO WAS IN THERE??!!

I kind of expect the Mommy to say to her tummy, "What do you say to the nice lady?"

To me, being an outsider (literally), I'm addressing an individual who has a big belly. Until birth that child is a sweet surprise.
I could as well be discussing someone's bunion for all I know.

But somehow I have insulted an entire family.

Facebook has displayed ultrasound pictures of babies that are so clear I'm surprised the kid isn't wearing a onesie or have a bow in her hair.

Sometimes I feel like I'm invading someone else's privacy when I see these photos. I mean, I'm embarrassed enough when my family shows pictures of me in my underpants when I was 3 years old.

Can you imagine how freaked out these kids will be when they get older to know some stranger has seen their umbilical cord?

uughh!