The options flowed freely with a prompt like inter-.
Intercontinental. Interracial. Internment. Internet. Intercourse (nope, moving right along).
We’re gonna go with interrupt.
Being interrupted has long been a pet peeve of mine. It’s hard to pin down the root of it – when someone interrupts what I’m saying there’s a certain amount of feeling disrespected. Part of it may be Miss Manners rearing her ugly head, another part my own frustration at not getting my point across. Then there’s the highly irritating likelihood that I’ll completely lose my train of thought while fuming.
This really came to a head when I met BrightSide and his family. They would readily admit that they’re – ahem – animated conversationalists. I figure growing up in that family you learned how to blurt out your input as part of the natural course of things.
As all great marriages take work, this was an area about which I – ahem – shared my frustration with BS. To his credit, he really has gotten better about it.
These days, though, BrightSide’s shared a few ways he thinks I’m contributing to this problem. Apparently I’m a Low Talker. I suppose this means eye contact and a moving mouth are not indicative of communication…I don’t know.
I’ve also been told that I pause too long while telling a story. Umm…okay. I don’t have a stopwatch going or anything so I guess I don’t have the empirical data to refute this. We’ll just have to agree to disagree, I suppose.
We’ve been working with the kids on not interrupting for years…let’s just say they have good days and bad.
But heaven help them if they bring an interrupter home to meet the family.
Visit Linda’s blog for her weekly Stream of Consciousness feature. This week’s prompt is “inter-.”