“It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson
Shelly and I kicked back at Limey’s this afternoon with our second or third bitch-type session this week. Because Shelly, unlike myself, has a propensity for people, we found ourselves joined by two of her (rather enjoyable, even if they are human) friends. In the process of getting to know everyone, I found out something so amazing I had to share.
When Shelly first met me, she says she “kinda thought” I “might be stupid”. Apparently because I didn’t speak much.
For some reason I find this hysterical. How horribly snobbish am I to derive mirth from the very notion that anyone might think I was stupid?
Of course, I’d like to point out that my parents once worried I might have something wrong with me (they thought I might be retarded, I guess) when I was three because I hadn’t started to speak yet. Why is it that not babbling gets associated with stupidity?
Now, if she really wanted to judge my intelligence, I can point to no less than a dozen life choices that WOULD give her evidence of my lack of intelligence.
