Dehortatio (de-hor-ta’-ti-o): Dissuasion.
Her: Don’t do that. I don’t like it.
Him: What? I was smiling. How could you not like a smile?
Her: It reminds me of my creepy Uncle Andy. He would smile like that right before he scratched his ass. He would keep smiling and looking at me. He did this little dance squirming around on his index finger. Then, he’d pull out his ever-present tube of cortisone and duck into the bathroom. When he came out of the bathroom, the creepy smile was gone—he was restored.
Uncle Andy has hemorrhoids—they cause chronic itching. It’s not Uncle Andy’s fault, but he should load up his butt with cortisone before he goes out. His ass itching is too weird for me to discuss with him.
I found out about the hemorrhoids by accident. There was a copy of the AARP magazine on his toilet opened to an article titled “Are You Itching for Them to Go Away: Coping With Hemorrhoids in Your Golden Years.” The title had been circled with a magic marker with “ME!” written alongside it in huge letters.
So, please, don’t smile at me. I don’t want to be reminded of Uncle Andy’s plight. I’ll never be able to get used to his/butt scratch dance. It gives me the creeps.
Him: OK, no more smiling. I ‘ll give you a thumbs up instead.
Her: Thumbs up? That’s not funny.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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