You need to be learned.

I'm uncultured.

The boy always says "I need to be learned a bit", something which I typically ignore because no matter how many countries you've visited, it's still important to use proper English when criticizing someone - especially when you're claiming to be much more refined.

I know stuff. I might not know what Big Ben looks like when you're standing under it or how the Aborigines live in the Australian outback, but I know how to do your taxes and can analyze your marketing decisions like its my job (because... well, it is).

But my intellectual ego was hurled out the window - and into a brick wall where it then smashed into a million tiny tiny pieces - at lunch today with the boy and his parents.

While discussing the implications of not having classes on Presidents Day, the parents questioned why we had the holiday off while other schools didn't. To this - I knew the answer.

The boy has always been very critical of my actions when we meet with his parents because I tend to stay mute. It may be just me, but I find doctorates from Harvard and graduate degrees from MIT intimidating.

Regardless, I still tried to make a point out of speaking today to prove to his parents i'm not just some pretty, dumb girl, who likes makeup and designer bags (although... I do enjoy those things... a lot). So when I knew the answer and my know-it-all boy toy did not, I jumped at the chance to enlighten the folks with what I knew.

"Well, our campus is overwhelmingly Jewish so in order to cater to the majority population, we get Jewish holidays off and not other religious holidays like Good Friday. A couple years back we started getting Presidents Day off to make up for the difference, which I find unbelievable because we still don't get Good Friday off."

It was a legitimate answer and they ate it up. Nom nom nom nom.

Score.

Now to finish them off with my intricate knowledge of other religions and BAM! - i'm in.

"You see, we have the entire month of December off because of a Jewish holiday here and a Jewish holiday there," I explained.

His parents both raised an eyebrow. "Like what holidays?" his mother asked.

"Like you know, like... Yom Kippur," I answered.

"Which isn't in December," his mom answered, somewhat offended.

"Channukah," I corrected myself.

"Which you are already off for because you have Christmas Break," she retorted.

"Ram...a...dan...?" I said faintly, struggling to grasp onto the last foreign holiday I could think of.

"Muslim," she answered, turning towards the boy and striking up a conversation about the economic situation in Venezula.

I turned bright red and spent the last hour of lunch poking my food with a fork because the boys Jewish mom just schooled me at my own game of bullshit.


FAIL.
... I need to be learned.