The Braggart

‘When I toss pebbles in a puddle, she throws boulders in the ocean!’

 

I say I visited Rome.

She says, ‘I met with the Pope.’

I say…we stayed in Florence…near Rialto Bridge.

She says, I stayed in a villa with a chef, housekeeper, views across the Tuscan hills.

I ask, ‘What do you know of the Renaissance?’

‘Nothing,’ she says.

Next day I ask, ‘What was your villa like?’

‘Painted ceilings, fireplaces, gardens, vineyards.’

I say, my apartment…and describe Pitti Palace and all its beauty.

She’s stumped. She’s embarrassed. She sits, fiddles.

I have finally won, but the win is hollow.

There is no joy in defeating a braggart on braggart terms.

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