Why you can’t resist an insister.

A very good friend of mine is famous for making a fuss of you when you visit. She insists that she feeds you, makes you a cup of tea, props you up on the couch with a blankie, re-arranges cushions for your comfort and showers you with love.

A good friend to have indeed. When you visit me, I might yell at you to pop the kettle on. If you are lucky.

Anyway, she will get stuff out of the fridge and offer you up many choices on which to chomp on, firing off each option like a machine gun. She insists and is insistent. So even if I had like just literally rolled a cheesy b from Mickey D, again I will eat because it is easier than fighting with her.

She be small, but she be mighty.

I have only recently learnt the power of insisting. It is a right that comes with age. It is very difficult to resist an insister.

Recently I flexed my insisting power. For you see it has been days now that the good folk from the NBN have been digging up the sidewalks and roads out the front of my house, and let’s just say that it isn’t without a fair bit of dust and noise pollution.

Yesterday afternoon, as the temperature hit 31 degrees, I felt the urge to eat a chocolate paddle pop and when I get such urges, I cannot do anything until that itch is scratched. I am sure some of you are nodding your head right at this very second.

The road was partially closed, so a young lass in hot pink high vis told me I had to go around the block and she was so sorry for the inconvenience. She was a wee thing, say 55 kgs dripping wet, and spoke with a soft Irish accent.

“You are from Ireland..” Sometimes I can be quite the conversationalist.

We had a little chat and I told her that I too hailed from Ireland. She asked where about and I couldn’t remember the town so I just said Dublin. She was on a working holiday and said the heat was getting to her and she missed her “Mamia”

Then I drove off to fetch my paddle pop. No one can argue that I don’t know how to have a good time.

I couldn’t help but think about the high vis Irish wee lassie standing outside my house in the hot blazing sun holding a stop sign. That was someone’s daughter, on the other side of the world. My maternal instinct kicked in.

“Where is your hat?” I asked her. She told me she had forgotten it.

“I am going to get you a hat…”

She insisted that she was ok, and I thought of her Mamia back in Ireland and what would she do if my son was standing out the front of her house in the freezing cold, when those words exited my body.

I held up my hand as I walked up my garden path.


Mr. Woog was inside and I told him that that poor girl was standing out in the sun without a hat and where was a hat that we could lend her that wasn’t a stupid one that said SLAY QUEEN, or many other novelty hats that we seem to collect.

I found a broad rimmed straw hat and grabbed a bottle of very cold water from the fridge.

She was very grateful and I felt good, albeit a tiny bit bossy, and I plan on insisting more often. Because it makes you less of a dick.

When it comes to insisting, is resistance futile?

Done any insisting lately?