I had a bit of an epiphany today - well not exactly, more like an epiphonette, epiphonista. I was attempting to tell one of my co-workers something, and he finished my sentence for himself and me, with a completely different ending from the one I was going to put on it. I was trying to provide him with information that was in his best interest, but, because he had already decided what I was saying, I smartly drew my own conclusion to our social intercourse. Communicatus interruptus. I was, well, not pleased.
It dawned upon me how often I do this to other people, more often than I'd like to admit, and probably most often with those I love the most. I don't know why this has occurred to me so clearly on a Tuesday morning. We weren't even talking about anything important. I guess in my own, selfish thinking, finishing someone else's sentence was evidence that I was engaged in the conversation. What I was being was impertinent.
I resolve to make my best effort to let you finish your sentence. I'm not sure how I'm going to do it, but I will try. I realized, maybe for the first time, today, how important it is to let you say it, even if I think I know what it is. I wonder how many sentences that I've finished the way my co-worker did, and the other person just let it go at that. As Bugs Bunny says, What a Maroon."
