The art of the 'One-Up'

OK. . . here we go again. Tales from my life which can be words of caution to many of you out there in blogger-land. . .(OK--maybe not many--but at least the 3 or 4 souls who read my blog!)

If you don't know the art of women-talk and the 'one-upping' that goes on in many polite women's conversations---well, then. . . you just don't know women. Let me explain how you must be prepared and able to perform this artful, yet necessary form of conversation if you are to be accepted by ANY group of women on the planet. . .

Here is an example RIPPED from the pages of my own life for your perusal, study and enjoyment. (Note: This is a CAUTIONARY TALE and must be read and studied with great care if you are to fathom what the heck is going on here!)

Last week I went out with my gal pals to an Italian restaurant for our yearly 'Christmas Get-Together' where we mainly pick a place to eat and gab and then exchange gifts of candles, chocolates, or chocolate-covered candles.

No sooner had we begun digging into the food and drink when the merry mayhem of 'one-upping' began. Here is what went down verbatim---and may you learn from this conversation which has been painstakingly recorded for you here:

Gal pal #1: Did you know that a hoard of squirrels got into our attic and chewed through our electrical wiring and we had to call the animal control people to come get them and 're-locate' them? It was horrible!

(I must explain here that we live in the Northwest where these kinds of critters are revered and honored and so they would not be outright killed by 'animal control folks'. Instead they are quarantined, until they learn to fill out the necessary forms and then put BACK where they were captured from--only THIS time they are actually documented)

Gal pal #2: That's nothing. My son carries a pet python around his neck. He even takes it shopping with him--as the snake has extremely good taste and was very helpful in picking out new curtains for his apartment. He says it's a 'chick magnet' and was able to land a wife in very short order. (However the snake never recovered after they removed the girl from it's clutches--so they ended up settling on a dog when they set up house together)

Gal pal #3: Well MY daughter and son in law went camping in the Utah wilderness and had several mountain lions invade their campsite while they were asleep in their tent. It was awful--the lions took over their picnic table and set up their own card game, put out the campfire and used their own propane grill they brought with them, and then had the audacity to poke their heads in the tent and ask if they had any extra batteries as they couldn't get any of the flashlights lying around to work.

Luckily my son in law was 'Johnny-On-The-Spot' and had his cell phone with him and called his sister who was camping with her family just a short distance away--and she came with her trailer--backed right up to the tent--and my daughter and son in law crawled out of their tent and into the back of their trailer, just in the nick of time! These mountain lions had brought some acoustic guitars with them and were just setting up to sing a round of Kumbaya. What a nightmare!

Gal pal #4: That's NOTHING! We were camping just a few years back when we were awakened to the sound of our dear little 2 year old daughter screaming: "Go away, bad doggies! Get BACK! Bad doggies! Go AWAY!"

We stumbled out of our tent to see our beloved 2 year old girl fighting off 10 coyotes with a small twig she found from the bush we set up her tent next to. We would have intervened to help--but you have never been around her when she's angry or upset--and it's NOT a pretty sight. She was holding her own pretty good and scared them so badly--that the ones that didn't just drop dead on the spot from shock will need therapy for years.

Gal pal #5: Well, we have a bunch of feral cats that run across our property and they have grown tired of mice and small rodents. (or perhaps they have gotten them all) They used to lay small birds, and mice on our doorstep at night, just to show us what they had done and how they had taken care of our problems. But now when we come out on our porch in the morning, we find all kinds of things! We found a stray pizza delivery guy laying there once, the Avon lady--and even a milkman! And we don't even drink milk!

Gal pal #4: (she just can't HELP herself--she is not about to be outdone) Well--my dear hubby takes the CAKE, ladies. I came home from an exhausting game of Bingo one night to find him pretty smug and sure of himself. He was so proud and cocky and just CROWING with delight--cuz he bagged a MOUSE right in our HOUSE! All by himself! With a cast iron skillet, no less! He was gonna bring out the shot gun--but he decided that he would give the critter a sporting chance and use a 'smaller' weapon.

He had left it for me under the kitchen sink--right where he 'smashed' it and wanted me to see it before he mounted the head in the family room. I mean the 'rack' on this critter had to be at least 3 inches between it's little ears! He was practically CRYING he was so excited about it.

So I obligingly go take a look at the 'mouse' my husband managed to kill and just looked at him and said: 'Great, dear hubby! You have just killed your dear daughter's hamster!' (We had been looking for that thing for weeks since it got out of it's cage and figured it had gone out into the great outdoors and suffered some horrible death out there in the 'wilderness') But instead it had managed to live indoors and suffered a horrible death at the hands of my husband--who was wondering why it didn't move when he opened up the cupboard under the kitchen sink to throw something away and saw the little thing (WITH NO TAIL) staring up at him on its hind legs with its big brown eyes and sort of chittering a happy 'You found me! You found me!'

That's when dear hubby did the only sensible thing he could think of at the time--grab the cast iron skillet off the stove and plotz the darn thing into the next world!

All gal pals stare in complete silence and utter consternation as THIS story cannot be 'one-upped' They all turn to me as it was MY turn to give my own 'animal tale' and anti up.

Me: Uh. . . I fold. . . as I don't have a darn thing to say. Besides. . . dessert's here!

Oh. . . the SHAME OF IT! I came home and actually asked my husband if he could take me to an alligator farm to get a pet--or at least take me camping in some forsaken part of the world that is only inhabited by lions, tigers, and bears--oh my!

Until then, I am frantically searching the internet for good animal/pet stories and committing them to memory so I will be TOTALLY PREPARED for the 'one-up' party next year!

(Unless, of course, they pick a new subject!)