Friday, July 28, 2017

Facts vs Opinions

When I said that I don’t have a lot of strong opinions in my last post, what I meant is that I don’t argue with people about opinions.

I mean, what’s the point? We all have an opinion and usually it’s not right or wrong, it’s just our opinion. I mean, my opinion that Dean Cain is the best Clark Kent of all time is no more right or wrong than someone else's opinion that Ben Affleck is the best Batman of all time (he's not...no, really, he just isn't.)

But facts? I’ll argue those…when I know I’m right.

It drives Alyssa crazy that I won’t argue with her (or anyone) if I don’t know, 100%, that I’m right.

Remember that time my step-dad tried to tell me that he had the universal donor blood type and then declared that his type is O positive? I simply couldn’t let that erroneous information stand without correcting it. I mean, there were other people in the room. My children, for example, who weren’t actually paying attention but might have taken in that information and filed it away to be used at some point and it was WRONG.

I gently corrected him, saying that the universal donor for red blood cells is actually O negative. He got a little huffy and when I explained about rH factors, he shut down and declared, “Well, O positive used to be the universal donor.”

Again…no. I mean, science and biology don’t change. So I had to argue with him. He hates being wrong but dude, don’t argue if you don’t know you’re right. Just saying.

On Wednesday night, Tom asked what I’d fed Olivia. He was a bit surprised that she hadn’t had some of the left over lasagna. I told him I’d fed her some of that the night before and she’d specifically asked for something different the next night. I mean, give the girl a break, she’d had lasagna Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. She deserved a break.

When I said that I’d fed her lasagna the night before, Tom interjected, “You mean, I fed it to her.”

I blinked at him for a second and said, “No, I fed her last night.”

He started to argue and I pointed out, “You fed her the night before last, which was Monday night, while I took Lyss to the school for marching band practice. Last night was Tuesday. I fed Liv.”

He gave it some thought, realized I was right and let it go.

Dude! You have been with me for 16 years. Have you not learned that I do not argue if I don’t know I’m right?

And honestly, it wasn’t even an argument. It was me saying something, him trying to say I was wrong, me proving I was right and us both moving on.

Alyssa so badly wants me to insist on something and then be proven wrong. Oh, dear sweet child. As if.

All this is not to say that I’m always right. I’m not. In fact, that’s why I don’t argue very often. If I have even the slightest doubt, I don’t argue.

But how fun it is when I do prove I’m right. That’s right, I gloat. I can’t help it. I’m not all that proud of my status as a gloater, but I’m probably not going to work all that hard to change it either. You’ve been warned.

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