What Would The Keswick Blogger Do? Ya, Probably Jail Time.

Things happen everyday and we often kick ourselves for how we react to them.  We think of the perfect retort hours later while stewing over a much earlier altercation with someone.  Some one cuts you off in traffic?  Well, you want to take a flame thrower to their pretentious, over-priced Beamer (or insert any car that’s pissed you off lately), but instead you seethe quietly inside your own mind and let your stomach acids boil over and up until you’ve given yourself a hole in your esophagus the size of a golf ball.  What should or could you do instead?

Another parent at your kids extra curricular sporting activity decides to take her bad day/marriage/life/shitatious dye job out on you?  You know you could have dressed her down until she slunk away, nursing her battered pride and feeling as ridiculous and stupid as she looked (yes, with the dye job, but I digress) while she was losing her mother-fucking mind at you in front of kids and parents alike.  But you did not.  You address her concerns, albeit curtly and really not at all to her satisfaction and then suggest to her that her attention would be better spent on her children rather than you and yours.  The high road you take (for the most part), but it definitely is not the road that makes you feel like you really kicked some mini-van-driving, mom-jean-wearing, brassy-bleach-job having bitch ass.

So, what’s the answer?  Take the high road and be left feeling right, superior, righteous, yet wronged or get down and dirty, throw the gloves off and just let loose with the mental gymnastics that is sure to exhaust your opponent before you even break a sweat or stop to take a breath?  Option two will leave you feeling satisfied but maybe a bit immature once your adrenaline has subsided and you come off that high.

The line between the high and low roads is a fine one.  If you take the low road a little too low or far, you’ll probably get arrested.  The high road rarely leads to your incarceration.  Put that way, the high road seems to be the obvious choice, but throw in that thing called – free will, the fight or flight instinct variances, hormone levels (male and female, thankyouverymuch) and it the decision just isn’t that clear-cut.

Obviously jail holds very little allure for me.  Except sometimes.  Like when my kids are hopped up on birthday cake and chasing that sugar crash.  Then I think that jail would be a lovely place to hide from them until the crash happened and the carnage was cleaned up (by someone else).  Or when they all hop aboard the ‘Let’s-cry-fight-whine-scream-and-hurt-ourselves-and-each-other-and-then-throw-up-all-at-the-same-time-all-at-maximum-volume-so-Mummy’s-head-explodes’ train.  But on the whole, jail seems like a slightly scary and not really “me’ kind of place (totally not enough pink in there.  And dragonflies.  And Moose Tracks ice cream)  So, more likely that not, I’ll just keep letting my body burns holes in itself, choke down a bottle of Tums, smile widely (all my own teeth, yo), completely annihilate you in my head and keep my dumb ass out of jail.  ‘k?  ‘k.

So, what do you do?  High road? Low road?  Can’t say until after the trial? Share!