The Definition of “Self Control” by Kelley Rice Schild

“M  -r -s.     S   - c  -  h -  i  - l -  d” ...he draws each syllable out, like only someone from Tallahassee, Florida can manage.  The instant I hear the preface I know what is coming next,  “perhaps you don’t remember our   p - r-  e  -v-  i - o - u-  s   conversation…” .  It is at that precise moment that I resist the uncontrollable urge to slam my I-phone into the nearest wall and smash it into million pieces.  If I had succumbed to that urge, I calculate that I would be on phone #6.  Instead, when he continues in his sickening sweet, consending tone with “I would be h -a -p -p- y  to go over it all again…” , I take a deep yoga breath.  I repeat to myself “DO NOT use the f-word”.

In my head I scream  “You fucking mother fucker!  Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!  Go fuck yourself you fucking asshole!”  And then I congratualate myself on my amazing self control.  Click.