“Could you please inform the readers of your site that I beat you at Ping-Pong?” my girlfriend said yesterday afternoon.
“Well,” I answered, “you won the first two matches, 3-2 and 3-1, but in the third match I was leading 2-1, and we couldn’t finish the third match.”
“But even if you would have won the third match, it wouldn’t have made a difference, because I would still have won two matches and you would have won only one. One, do you hear me?”
“I let you win,” I answered. “You are a spoiled brat. I don’t know why I keep up with you. If you lose at Ping-Pong you are grumpy for the rest of the day. That’s why I let you win, because I want to eat my dinner in peace.”
“You are so childish, you can’t stand the fact that I’m better at Ping-Pong. It would make me laugh if it weren’t so sad.”
“Let’s finish this discussion. The facts are clear. I let you win, because I’m a gentleman and you are a brat.”
“Why don’t you call your mother?” she said.