The Subtle Art of Self-Definition

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“So I saw this ad on TV over the holidays and now I’ve adopted a little girl from Botswana,” announced Vivienne. Her face flushed with pride.

Arabella squealed. “That’s amazing. You are so full of ruth.”

“Ruth who?” asked Beckett.

“It’s the opposite of ruthless,” explained Arabella.

“So it’s not a real word,” replied Beckett.

Arabella frowned. “It’s real because I made it real.”

“I think I’m gonna use it. What’s it mean?” asked Vivienne.

“I define it as ‘warm hearted and compassionate’,” proclaimed Arabella.

“No it isn’t,” protested Beckett.

Arabella thrust her nose in the air and turned her back on Beckett. “Don’t listen to him, Viv. Trust me, I’m a wordophile.”

“The term is logophile, and the fact that you used the term ‘wordophile’ proves you aren’t,” said Beckett.

“Stop it!” shouted Vivienne. “This fighting is making me feel, oh, I don’t know…”

“Whelmed?” suggested Arabella.

“Oh, come on!” erupted Beckett.

“What does that mean?” asked Vivienne.

“It means whatever you like. For me, it’s when you’re not overwhelmed but not underwhelmed.”

“That’s not even original,” complained Beckett.

“How dare you undermine my right to self-define,” snarled Arabella. Her eyes flared and her expression grew fierce. “If I say I’m a wordophile, then that’s what I do.”

Beckett held up his hands in self-defence. “Fine. You’re a wordophile, but I’m going to call you a fartknocking plutoscribe from now on.”

Vivienne gasped. “What does that mean?”

Beckett smiled. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

“What does it mean to you?” accused Arabella.

With a glint in his eye, Beckett said, “I think I’ll keep that definition to myself.”

Arabella stomped her foot. “You can’t do that!”

Beckett shook his head. “Arabella, how dare you undermine my right to self-define.”

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About vanyieck

There is nothing about me that is more interesting than you. I am a man. I have a wife and family. I have a career. I have two dogs. I
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