Some people refer to me as a witty person. That's probably a nice way of saying I'm a smart mouth, but whatever. I can usually hold my own in a battle of wits. Did you ever see two people going at it with insults or smart comments? Each one is funnier than the last and you almost have to admire the way the comments keep rolling off the tongue. My older sister and I used to get into these insult battles all the time. It didn't matter who started it; sometimes neither of us meant to start one. We'd just all of a sudden be in one. It was kind of funny because neither one of us could stand to be the one to finish it. We were both very stubborn about having the last word. We would crack each other up while insulting each other right and left. We even had card battles, meaning the birthday cards we sent each other would either insult the receiver, or set her up for a compliment about the giver.
We had a third sister who came between us age-wise. She usually stayed out of these battles. Not that she was innocent or sweet; she just wasn't as quick as we were. Although occasionally she could come up with some good ones. For instance, when my mom got sick of hearing the two of us ragging on each other, she'd put a stop to it. Then my other sister would pipe up. "Mom, aren't you glad you have one perfect daughter?" Yeah, right. Since Mom had just told us to stop, there was nothing we could say, and sister #3 would end up with the final word, even though she was never in the fight! That frosted my cookies more than once.
Which leads me to the picture in my blog today. I don't like losing these insult battles. There are times when I just don't have a wire connecting between my brain and my mouth, and it's dangerous to go into a battle of wits if you're unarmed. Unfortunately this happened to me last night. After church several of us were sitting around talking when one of the men starting teasing me. The problem was, after a week of Vacation Bible School and all the people we had staying at our house (and staying up until all hours) I have had very little sleep. I simply could not think of a single thing to say in return. I tossed a few verbal grenades his way, but they were so weak it was really pathetic. Which just ticked me off more. I mean, he was digging deep! He even brought up the time I burned the lasagna I was supposed to be serving them for dinner. (He's never going to let me live that down!) And I ended up there with a few squeaks in protest, but it wasn't even a close match. And of course, every time I couldn't think of anything to say, I'd get more irritated with myself, which made it harder to think of things to say.
Our battle ended because some of us decided to go get a bite to eat and his family wasn't going with us. I tossed a sad final comment, something about them not coming because he was afraid I would get him back. Yeah right. That was like the bully beating you to a pulp and then, when his mom calls him home for supper, you throw a rock after him and say, "That'll teach you to mess with me!" Your eye is swelling and your nose is bleeding. You're not fooling anyone, but you still have to say something.
So I'm catching up on my sleep and I'm honing my verbal skills. Next time, Garrett! There will be a next time ...