If You Can't Say Something Nice . . .

A couple of weeks ago I picked up the babes from their Wednesday dance class to have our weekly dinner-with-Grandma. As we got into the car, Ridley said to Boston something on the order of "stop complaining". He responded, "I'm not complaining. I'm just telling the truth."

I smiled. I almost laughed out loud. I time-traveled back almost 40 years to Early First Marriage and a husband who didn't know himself, much less me. (Note to lawmakers: Allowing people to marry before, oh, age 25, might be a poor idea!) At some point shortly into the marriage he commented on how much I complained.

His statement caught me by surprise and made me stop and think about my words. I wasn't complaining. I was simply stating how I felt or what I noted.

If I tell you I have a headache, I am imparting knowledge to you. Yes, I may tell you that every day, but I frequently get headaches every day. It's merely a part of my life. It's not a complaint!

Ditto "I'm cold." "I'm tired." "This job is hard." "These pant are too short."

Just facts.

How interesting to learn that my grandson's brain is wired the same way.

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Why a graphic of Thumper, beside the fact that I just love him? Here's the quote:

Thumper: He doesn't walk very good, does he?

Mrs. Rabbit: Thumper!

Thumper: Yes, mama?

Mrs. Rabbit: What did your father tell you this morning?

Thumper: [clears throat] If you can't say something nice... don't say nothing at all.