Several years ago, I playfully called Kellie a bitch. “You can’t call me that,” she said.
“You just can’t.”
To which I responded, “Even if you act like one?” I wanted to retrieve my words as they slid off my tongue, but it was too late. Kellie pursed her lips, tilted her head slightly to one side, and just gave me a look that said no response was really necessary.
“Okay then, can I call you a witch?” I asked.
“Yes, you can call me a witch,” she replied.
“How about a titch?” I asked.
“Yes, you can call me a titch.”
“How about a ditch?” I asked.
“No, that’s a little too close.”
“Well,” I said, “I guess bucking fitch is out of the question then.”
That’s when I got punched in the arm.