I  had a little bit too much fun last week, thanks to my little sister syndrome. It happens sometimes.

I might have been a little mean in my jokes with my occupational therapist intern Courtney, even though I adore her (sorry, Courtney).

I did the same thing to the website trolls, writing something that I knew would trigger them. Mention “fur babies,” et al., and one particular person takes that sweet, innocent expression used by millions of people who treat their animals as family rather than property as advocating bestiality (seriously??? I worry about you, dude …).

Talk about Pride Month and treating the LGBTQ+ community with the same respect given to straight people (along with the same rights, as well as the privilege of a good lettin’ alone that most of us take for granted), and you get rubbish about being compelled by law to use preferred pronouns (you’re not, and, as one commenter said, “OMG, not pronouns!”), something about focus groups, and J.K. Rowling, none of which were mentioned, lacking relevance to the column.

(Here’s a lesson on writing a column: If you include everything, you’ll never be done, and who wants to read a wall of gray text? Writing a column is a lot harder than it looks to the peanut gallery who think any omission is a sign you’re hiding something rather than just thinking about flow and readability. Not everything is relevant.)

Yep, this little sister who misses her brother who died from covid complications, as well as the one currently going through health struggles of his own (the less said about the third brother the better; we don’t talk, and for good reason, including past treatment of me and other family members, and his current treatment of his daughter), sometimes has to bleed off a little of that energy she would use on them. I’d blame my Threads friends who specifically encouraged the “fur kids” talk, but let’s be honest: I was gonna do it anyway. Li’l Sis had already ruled.

She’s a stinker, that one. And she’s always had a soft spot for critters, especially cats. She was often the only one the semi-feral barn cats we always had around would allow to pet and cuddle them; that’s part of the reason her Threads/Instagram user name is whispererofcats (that and she just loves them so much she sits as many as she can … have one in the Little Rock area you need sat while you’re on a trip this summer? DM me!).

But you know, adults who recognize and live in reality can joke with each other (like I do with Courtney, and with Ben, my primary occupational therapist) without taking offense. A little humor eases the tension (and when the bones and muscles in one arm are hesitant to loosen up and allow supination, there’s tension, believe me). And if offense is taken, adults quickly acknowledge it and apologize.

Others, on the other hand, get their jollies from offense: taking it (especially when it makes no sense to do so unless you’re of a certain mindset and you intend to use it to sow division, especially of the hyperpartisan variety), or giving it (or at least giving it the old high school try … I’d say college, but …).

Seriously, folks, there’s a whole world out there of hobbies and other diversions that could keep you on an even keel, and I’ve found that the people who don’t owe their entire identity to, especially, a political or quasi-religious group tend to be the most even-tempered (as I told a fellow among the politically homeless the other day, being such is akin to politics with a conscience, and we tend to think before we make damfools of ourselves). It takes a special sort of person to take so much perverse pleasure in the belief you’re “owning” other people with juvenile antics meant to make them miserable. Mine last week were a little juvenile, yes, but I admit that, and it was really to make a larger point.

That point: You can choose not to be an ass just as easily as you can choose to be an ass. Everyone has that within them, but not everyone cares enough about their fellow humans. If I’m going to act like a jerk and/or intentionally trigger a small number of people who through their behavior online make it unpleasant to visit our website, it’s to give them a taste of their own medicine. I’m not going to answer them, but enough worn-out commenters do, correcting their misinformation and giving as good as they get. (I salute you all!)

Not that the trolls notice. I’m starting to think they pre-write a few things they think are staggeringly insightful that have nothing to do with what any columnist (or fellow commenter) writes, and then cut and paste those comments just wherever (along with clips of “news” stories from wildly biased sources, bits of what passes for satire in their world, and random meaningless phrases repeated ad nauseam, like “edge examples,” “dainty nosegay advocacy group,” etc.). If anyone dares answer them, especially a woman, it’s time to pull out the insults.

Because insults are easy. Reading and thinking … meh, over-rated and harder.

Sometimes we take offense at the most inoffensive things, which I was reminded of by a meme in my Facebook feed Thursday: “Imagine you’re frolicking on a spider web, playing with a bubble, singing ‘falalalala,’ occasionally picking a flower, etc., etc. But a guy is watching you, about 20 paces away; he lowers his head and screams with blind rage because of how much you’re p- – -ing him off. That’s what social media is like.”

Taking and giving offense gobbles up way too much time in our lives now. If someone else’s actions aren’t against the law and don’t really have any actual effect on you other than getting annoyed by the audacity of their existence … y’all, offense isn’t worth it. Go smell some flowers, watch Monty Python’s “Holy Grail,” eat some Loblolly’s ice cream (save some Arkansas Mud for me … YUMMMMMMMMM), or find a good spot to watch fireflies at dusk (hey, if you left the leaf litter where it was last fall, you just might have more firefly sightings this year, as one of my friends noticed). Scroll past what annoys you, or just take a break from social media/comment boards/the Internet altogether.

I could have—and should have—been the bigger person last week. I always try, and I often fail. But one thing I won’t do is let offense over things like preferred pronouns (or pronouns in general; there are a lot of them, so some of y’all need to tighten up your arguments) overshadow offense at the things that really matter, such as constitutional rights and norms being put in danger (again, someone else getting the rights for themselves that you’ve always had doesn’t take away your rights; there’s enough for everyone).

Priorities, people!