Monday, January 22, 2007

Superiority Complex

I’m sure it is obvious to many of you that I am Brad’s superior. Indeed, any interaction that you have with either of us will result in the quick conclusion that Brad became a fortunate man when he married the extraordinary girl that is, well, me. If there is a guru in the family, I am that guru with Brad as my indolent yet enthusiastic disciple.

If you fail to recognize the truth in this matter, you need look no further than the events that transpired recently. I went to Brad’s campus to meet him for lunch one day last week, at which point he handed me a letter, addressed to his Superior. (Exhibit A) Within the envelope was a letter that invited me to a celebration of all superiority at DVK, to take place this afternoon. In truth, the section of the letter regarding the intention of the entire community to honor and laud their superiors was in boldface font, clearly indicating that this was the ultimate desire of all involved. Please do take notice of the use of the phrase your reverence when referring to me in the first line of the third paragraph.

While I was not certain if I wanted to take advantage of this occasion, as I never am one to brag about my superiority, my feelings were swayed this very morning when Brad begged me to join him this afternoon. “Dear wife,” he proclaimed, “it would not be good of me to salute others when clearly you are the one who is most deserving of such an auspicious occasion.” Therefore, to please my husband’s need to exalt my very existence, we departed for the campus this afternoon.

When we got there, we were invited, by the Dean of the institution, to sit in a section for luminaries. We sat through a lovely series of speeches, songs and even some interpretive dance before gifts were bestowed upon each of the students' Superiors. While I did my best to remain modest and coy, I could not help but notice that there was thunderous applause when my name was proclaimed from the podium. Yes, the gentlemen and gentlewomen who attend classes there are clearly aware of how great I art. I gracefully ascended the platform and gathered a delightfully wrapped package into my hands.

The presentation of gifts went on for a few more minutes, after which we were given a small portion of light snack with a scrumptious serving of tea to accompany. The final remarks spoken, Brad and I mingled with the other guests, many of whom were quick to acknowledge how superior I am. Although one of Brad’s professors made the mistake of calling me his guardian, I quickly corrected his blunder, which he was gracious enough to admit.

When we arrived home, I opened my package to find a folio of the softest faux blue leather with the words “Philosophy Faculty Day” emblazoned across the cover. (Exhibit B) So if there is ever a doubt in this flat that we call a home regarding who should be praised, I will always have my gift to show Brad, demonstrating that the world at large concedes that I am, and forever will be, Brad’s Superior.

Exhibit A: A glorious invitation

Exhibit B: The gifted folio


Mom (Bannon) said...

Was there ever a question about this...tee hee...Girls rule! love mom

E(Liz)a(Beth) said...

Actually, it was remarkably embarassing. I didn't expect to be called up. So mortifying.

George N said...

I got a kick out of this post and had to contain laughter at my desk. Good blog entry. I guess you were destined for superiority going back as far as your epic role in the first grade play of Cinderella :)

Hope all remains well. Keep in touch.

Anonymous said...

I love it when smart people get funny. Adorable. Cute. Poignant. WORD UP


E(Liz)a(Beth) said...

Thanks, George. Glad I could make you giggle! :)