Don't Show Me the Way to Go Home

My husband is of the opinion that any story about scars should reference that scene in "Jaws" where Quint, Hooper and Brody are drunk and singing "Show Me the Way to Go Home." Quint and Hooper swap shark stories and stories about their scars. The scene is brilliant and is the highlight of the movie. Though we might not relate to Quint's terrifying encounters with sharks, who hasn't proudly shown off their scars? Regardless, I was very angry that he insisted this was the only way to write a short story about a scar.

He didn't even show any interest in listening to my story. How could he possibly know the "Jaws" scene would fit my story before actually hearing it? AND he thought he could inject collaborative rights on MY story without even asking. We were on our way to pick up dinner when we had this heated discussion. I had the visceral urge to smack him but out of self-preservation chose not to distract him from his driving. He was genuinely surprised I even felt this way. He only intended to help. However, it bore the threat of sabotage - that he was trying to write my story before I even had the chance. Lately, I have had trouble finding motivation to write and his insistence was an unwelcome reminder of my inadequacy. Pre-chewing my food would have been less insulting - okay, maybe not. Thank goodness it hasn't come to that yet.

Just to make things clear, this is NOT my short story about a scar. I refuse to give him any more credit than this blog post.