John Wooden
I am discovering something rotten about myself. I am definitely too critical. You have seen my snarky remarks about TV commercials. Well, my latest observations is for Build-A-Bear. When a little girl and boy are standing with their parents, and they are each holding a Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer plush toy that they have dressed up, I could just reach through the television screen and snap that little boy in two like a dry twig, when he says, "THANKS, Mom" in that nasally, goody-two-shoes voice. What in the world is wrong with me? Here is a cute little kid who is trying to get into show business by doing a first class advertisement for a reputable company, and I despise him. Wait, it's not his fault - it's not my fault - it's the guy or gal who wrote the commercial. Way to go, Janene, dump it off on some schmuck trying to make a living by frantically coming up with a new concept to sell expensive stuffed toys and their clothing that costs more than an outfit for a real child. Wait, it's the advertising company that is forcing their workers to make up ridiculous, irritating ads . . . uh . . . I'd better stop trying to blame someone else. I think I'm getting a headache.
Another thing that I just realized was that I am not very observant. Sunday night, Nina and I went out for a little bit to get away from everything that has been going on. When she dropped me off, my house was completely dark. I crept around quietly getting ready for bed. Just as I laid down, I heard a little tapping at my front door. Like a dummy, instead of waking Lon, I went to the door in my pj's, thinking maybe I had left something in Nina's truck and she was returning it. When I opened the door, IT WAS MY HUSBAND!!! He had stayed late at his mother's until Nina arrived to stay with her. I had thought he was asleep in the bed and it scared the heck out of me when I saw him at the door.
No much else happening. Little Ma told the doctor that visited her at home, that on a pain scale of 1 to 10, she was at 7.
BUT SHE NEVER COMPLAINS! I think 7 is a pretty respectable high level of discomfort and pain to tolerate. She will tell us when her back hurts or something is bothering her, but no whining or crying like anyone else would do. When Lon was carrying her to bed last night, Nina said when she sees him do that, it always reminds her of that kids' storybook I LOVE YOU FOREVER (or something like that). It's about a young mother who carries her son around when he is young, and when she is old and sick, it's he who carries her. It's kinda a hokey story, but everyone who reads it, cries. It's very touching.
GOD BLESS YOU ALL