It’s midday yesterday when Valkyries made a bold statement:

Only a stupid man resists help. 

It sends my eyebrow into the stratosphere. Only a stupid man resists help? Hmm, okay.

There’s an ire in me that’s tempted to tear him apart, but a deep breath and I swallow the urge. 

Instead of my ire, I pray for his forgiveness. 

I explain to Valkyries, gently, that there are reasons people might resist help besides ignorance. Experience being one of them. 

This isn’t about me exclusively, though I am speaking from experience here. 

Valkyries argues back that experience should teach us to trust. I sigh.

So I’m teaching the teacher today? Got it.

I used the classic hot-hob example, and I asked Valkyries how one would discern whether a hob is hot without touching it. Valkyries dodges around that example, so I try another: bridges over a ravine – if the first two bridges crumble under your feet and you fall into the water, how will you know if you can trust the third bridge?

It’s here that Valkyries and I begin to see things the same way: Valkyries says that you question what the bridge is made from and (to paraphrase) reconsider if needs be. 

So I argue that he also wouldn’t trust the bridge blindly. Valkyries is now seeing the way that others like me have lived: if people have hurt you before, you don’t blindly follow the next person who says “trust me”. You wait to see whether they can be trusted at all. 

There’s more to it, but above all it’s intelligence for me: if he considers my cautious nature as “stupid”, how do I know I’m really safe here? 

That Valkyries doubled down on why he’s right, to be honest, probably only left us both with headaches. Now he’s not only wrong, he’s confidently wrong. 

Valkyries has things to do, and I gather it’s for the best that we let this one drop. Before I do, though, I can’t resist one last little jab – I tell Valkyries that I’ll be over here, “being a stupid woman” if he wants me. 

Now, let me be clear here, I don’t actually believe that I am stupid. I’m remarkably smart, and I even have the paperwork to prove it. From as young as I can remember, I can recall teachers commenting on how bright I am, and I’m loved the world over for my quick-witted nature. So I don’t actually believe I’m stupid, I’m just playing the fool. 

Valkyries tells me off, argues that I’m not stupid. I agree, but that doesn’t mean I won’t rib him for his oversimplification of a whole group of people. By his broad statement I am a “stupid” woman though, whether he wants that to apply to me or not. 

By evening we’re reunited, and I can feel it – his exasperation in me. For my part I’m relaxed, feet up, thoroughly enjoying myself. Maybe if you hadn’t considered me stupid, Sir…

Valkyries talks housework and I invite him to come do mine. I claim incompetence – claim that “stupid people might not be safe with a vacuum cleaner”. I list off a series of misfortunes that could become of me shpuld I try.

Valkyries says that the stupid one would be the one who believes me. 

Maybe, maybe… 

Or there again, perhaps the stupid one is the one who underestimates just how stupid we “stupid” ones can be 😉