Mr. Know-It-All

Sometimes when the wife and I get into a heated discussion, she’ll say something like, “You always think you know better than anyone else!” as if I were meant to take that as a problem, or character flaw, or point against me in our little talk.

But I can’t deny it; I do: most of the time, in most situations, I am of the opinion that my opinion is the superior one, and that’s only because—as far as I can tell—most of the time, it is.

Now, it’s not as if I have a wealth of evidence to support this view; heaven knows, (as does anyone who’s spent more than a few minutes with me), I am among the more fallible of all us fallible human beings around. Many of my views on the nature of things are mistaken, I’m lousy at math, and I don’t know a thing about home repair beyond taking out my checkbook and signing away more of the kid’s inheritence.

Still, I remain relatively convinced that I know better than most people about most things. I would imagine this is a gift (or curse) from my parents, both of whom were inveterate know-it-alls about pretty much everything. The difference, though, between their airs of confidence and my own is that, in my dad’s case, he did more or less know it all, and in my mom’s, she could convince you she did, whether she knew anything about what she was talking about or not.

And so, I can’t see past my own nose when it comes to determining who has the better view of things; nor am I able to see why I shouldn’t.

There have been times when it’s been said to me something like, “You could ask everyone you know and they would all think differently than you do on this one.” And I would say, let them; it’s just too bad for them they’re wrong and I’m right.