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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
What happened: I returned home from the factory on March 4th at 4 p.m. which is my birthday. My stay at home wife was sure to be there to greet me. I thought perhaps with a gift, a night out, something.
As I entered the back door of the house and placed my lunch box on the kitchen counter I heard her from another room say, "Happy Birthday Paul".
As I then rounded the corner of the dining room, looked into the living room, there she stood naked except she was wrapped entirely with clear plastic wrap, and a red bow upon her shoulder. I imagine I looked shocked, because I was. She then was smiling from ear to ear in her "little ploy" preperation to surprise me. Wow did she. At that time I began to unwrap my gift and commenced to enjoy it.
What I said: I thanked her and told her this was wonderful.
What I SHOULD have said: "What....leftovers...AGAIN?"
The French call it l'esprit d'escalier, "the wit of the staircase," those biting ripostes that are thought of just seconds too late, on the way out of the room-or even, to tell the truth, days later. It's happened to you: you've suddenly thought of just what would put your foe in his or her place, but past the time when the arrow could sting its victim. You've stewed in your own juice ever since, and the chance for singeing repartee is gone forever.
Or is it?
Dorothy Parker or Oscar Wilde may have had the rapier wit to tweak their tormentors on the spot, but for the rest of us, we offer the Internet's only L'esprit d'escalier web site!