Wives: good cures for hubris.

So, I'm a pretty smart guy. I have a broad field of knowledge from which I pull and do so daily. I also appear to many people to be even smarter than I actually already am (no easy feat) by having a substantial vocabulary.

You know who isn't impressed? Mrs. Larsen. I do not mean this derisively or negatively in any way. It's good for me.

Part of the problem is language. I, like many of my kin, have a good understanding of the English language and can, to use the vernacular, BS my way through a lot. As Plato argued in his dialogues, you don't have to be an expert, just convince your audience you are. I speak directly and confidently, which is roughly 80% of persuasion. Sprinkle in a few facts (like I did when I name-dropped Plato back there), and suddenly you're a scientist*.

But the thing is, I'm not that smart. I'm not a moron (most of the time), but really I probably would land only above average with the population as a whole. I forget this sometimes. When I do, Allison is nice enough to bring me back down to earth.

That is not to say that she doesn't encourage me to do my favorite thing ever (explain), because she totally does. But if I go too far, she'll be there with perspective. For example, if I tell her I made a smart comment in class, she'll congratulate me. If I say that I'm the smartest or that everyone else is stupid (this has happened), she'll remind me that not everyone comments or maybe I understand it better or that I am good at explaining things and not everyone is or maybe this subject isn't their forte and they're only there to fulfill some aspect of their otherwise unrelated major (there was only one other tech writing major in my tech writing class, after all).

Humility can be a tough thing, but if done kindly, wifely correction can be very helpful (and Allison is nearly always very kind).

*A scientist being what most people think of as a brilliant person.