Attitude

Kathryn: “Did you see it?”

Clinton Kelly (IV-Extraordinaire): “Did I see what?”

K: “Oh, c’mon! You missed it! It was a little, teeny hummingbird.”

CK: “Have you been drinking?”

K: “NO…. Well, yes….but, that’s not the point. Wine is not exactly a hallucinogenic, ya know.”

CK: “Still. Maybe it was a leaf.”

K: “A leaf? Are you kidding me? How stupid do you think I am?”

CK: (Makes face) “Well since you’ve asked, you did offer to loan someone your crepe maker.”

K: “So?”

CK: “You don’t have a crepe maker.”

K: (Shrugs) “Well, that’s okay….I was just trying to be thoughtful…besides, I knew she wouldn’t take me up on it.”

CK: “Well, what about the other day when you screamed bloody murder because you thought the brown leaf Metro tracked in was a mouse.”

K: “Hey. That’s more paranoid than stupid. I mean, seriously….it was moving and everything. You should’ve seen it.”

CK: (Chuckes) “I did. It looked like a leaf.”

K: “Dammit….lies. They’re all lies….”

CK: “Well, what about when you carried the pen from the car into the bank and discovered you’d brought in the thing to check your tire pressure?”

K: (Eyes suspiciously) “What’s it called?”

CK: (Confused) “What’s what called?”

K: “The thing to check your tire pressure. What’s it called?”

CK: “This isn’t about me….it’s about you. You’ve asked a very direct question. The question on the table was, ‘How stupid do you think I am?’ I am merely substantiating a few somewhat questionable events that may merit some further examination.”

K: “I’m hearing ‘Blah, blah, blah.’ What’s it called, Clinton?”

CK: “LOOK! Is that a hummingbird?!” (Deadpan) “It’s called a tire pressure gauge. Do not mess with the master.” (Uses dramatic hand language to bring home his point.)

K: “FINE. But, can you pull together an impromptu dinner party with only 30 minutes notice?”

CK: “Uh-huh.”

K: “Can you….teach a high school English class whilst surveying the specs on a 5,000 square foot reno?”

CK: “Yup.”

K: “Well, can you sign your name with a tire pressure gauge, make fresh crepes and execute a flawless meaningful conversation with a feminine hygiene product stuck in your undergarments?”

CK: “Huh. You’ve got me there. If I say ‘you win’, can I get myself a refill?”

K: “Only if you get me one, too. Now who’s the master, master??”

CK: “Me mordre.”

K: “Excuse me? What does that mean?”

CK: “I do believe it’s French for ‘bite me’.”

K: “Attitude….always with the attitude. I don’t know where this comes from…..”