Smarty Pants

I LOVE when I know things that Mr. Joseph doesn't know.

I've always been a smarty pants. I don't know when or how it happened, but it's true. I know random crap and retain most anything I read. Sometimes it's super, odds are good I'll kick your butt at trivia games, but sometimes it just makes people hate me. I think it made Fate want to spite me a little too because I married one of the few people I've ever met who not only knows most of the stuff I know, but a ton of things I never even thought to memorize. Dang. I never feel like the smarty anymore- after years of hiding behind that it's a tough blow to the ego. So when Mr. Joseph asks me a question I sometimes instinctively rattle off the answer in true know-it-all form (you know, absently- as though the k.i.a. is clearly contemplating deeper things and is a. too important to be bothered by your mundane inquiry and b. judging you for not knowing something so basic in the first place). Then I have to stop- frequently I literally stop whatever I'm doing, especially if it's walking- and stare at him for a moment. Is he serious? Do I really know something he doesn't know? Or is he just trying to make me feel good about my intelligence for one brief, shining moment in my day? Sometimes I ask him, "Did you really not know that?" because I can tell when he's lying most of the time. Then if he didn't really know I proceed to gloat until the next time I have to ask him a question I don't know the answer to and surrender that elusive pair of smarty pants.