Dan & I were in the same 4th grade class together. Maybe even 5th grade too, I can't remember. He is my first cousin. Back then, he was Daniel. We went to the same middle school, but because Amish do not attend high school, that is where we parted ways, so to speak. Dan & I always enjoyed each other's humor. We could "play to a crowd" together, if you will. Sort of like our fathers, who are brothers.
So, a few weeks ago, when I went back to Indiana to visit, there was a big Amish supper at my Aunt Lorene' & Uncle Leo's house (Dan's parents). There was a slight miscommunication between the two of us early in the evening as Dan made his way through the house to shake hands and greet everyone. As in typical Amish fashion, most of the women congregated in one part of the house and the men pretty much to another. Stories were swapped, tales were told. Recipes and ironing tips were shared amongst the women, while I am pretty sure the men occupied their chatter with the upcoming deer-hunting season.
Anyway, I was talking to my sister and Aunt Esther whom both confirmed that **I** was correct and that perhaps Dan just didn't hear me. Well, I could NOT let Dan think he had gotten the best of me. I marched into where the men were, and sat across the table from Dan and cleared my throat, "Ahem." Tones hushed and the room fell silent. All eyes were on me; the Non-Amish woman who had not only crossed states to be there, but now the invisible "boundaries", dividing the men and women, by which every other person in the house was abiding just fine.
Dan looked at me with the all-too-familiar family smirk on his face and gleam in his eye, as if to question, "Yes? May I help you?" A very short discussion ensued, in which it was made known that I was right and Dan was wrong. I stood up and said something very non-Amish, like, "Booya!" or something. The men laughed and I returned to the safety of the "Hen House".
By the end of the evening we were all winding things up, gathering our now-empty dishes and wrapping children in jackets and hats. At this point everyone had pretty much congregated to the living room/kitchen area to say their goodbyes. Dan and I talked for a brief moment again. He asked me a question, to which I responded. As soon as I gave my answer, however, I knew I was wrong. Dan caught on quickly, and corrected me.
"Oh, you're right!" I said. "I'm sorry... yes, you are correct."
Again, breaking out that smirk-and-gleam combo, this time coupled with the Family Dimples, Dan announces in a booming voice, "So, what you're saying is YOU WERE WRONG!"
I knew exactly what he was doing. I took my cues.
"That's what I just said," I retorted. "I just said you were right."
"Yes, but you didn't say that YOU WERE WRONG!" He restated.
"I did! I just admitted that, Dan," I reiterated. "I said, YOU WERE RIGHT!"
By this time, the room was filled with laughter as the onlookers passed their glances between us, as if watching a tennis match.
"Why is it," Dan posed to the crowd, "That people will never admit when they are wrong?!?!? Sure! They will say, 'you're right!', but they will never say, 'I'm wrong.'"
"Dan, I can admit I am wrong, WHEN I am wrong," I corrected.
"And are you ever wrong?" Dan questioned, again keeping the crowd sucked in.
"There are times..." I sighed, "such as tonight."
"Then just admit it," Dan coaxed. "Say you were wrong."
"I have already said it... like three times!" I acted so exasperated. "You're right! ok??? Are you happy now??? SHEESH!!!"
After another round of roaring laughter, I simply turned to the audience and stated, "Thank you! You've been great...I'm here all week. Good night everybody!" To which of course the Amish WON'T get, cuz they do NOT have TV's... Still it was funny! Actually, what made it even funnier, was a non-Amish uncle came up to me then and said, "So, you're here all week?"
I felt sad that my comedian routine reference was a complete bust..."No, actually," I clarified. "That was just sort of a joke...I actually leave first thing in the morning."
Anyway, the entire thread got me wondering... How many people really CAN'T admit when they are wrong?
Personally, I don't have a problem with admitting I'm wrong... when I'm not too busy being Right, that is. lol!
What about you? Can you admit when you're wrong?