Gary complains sometimes that I don’t respond often enough when he’s speaking to me. There’s a certain amount of “oh” and “um-hmm” he requires. (No actual words, that’s interrupting, can’t have that.)
The last time he demanded to know that I was listening, I responded sarcastically with an overly loud and animated “UM-HMM,” which prompted him to call me …
An “insolent bitch.”
The “bitch” part rolled right off, because it’s true, particularly after that “UM-HMM,” buuuuut … “insolent?”
I thought about it a moment before I began laughing uncontrollably. Insolent? Insolent! Have I completely misread the household dynamic? Here I thought we were equals; evidently, I am an underling. An insolent underling.
We made up soon after, but you know next time he acts up I’m playing the insolence card. “Be quiet, you insolent puppy!” “Shut your insolent mouth.” “I shall not abide such insolence!”