 Just now, as I was going through all the possible things I could
write about and from whose point of view I would write it, I
realized that my point of view reminded me of Winnie the Pooh's
friend, Eeyore.There might be two sides to any issue, but for
some reason, I have been trained to play devil's advocate whenever
my husband has what sounds like a great idea.
I feel compelled to point out the realistic view simply because
someone has to do it... and he refuses to do his fair share. He sees
only his rather rosy view of things. I want to see the rosy view
once in a while! (There is much foot stomping at this point.)
For example, a power outage would result in a groan from me
because I can't use my computer. However, my husband sees a power
outage as a reason for a party. He will break out the mini
marshmallows, spear them on toothpicks and have a marshmallow roast
over a candlestick on the living room floor.
I'm easily led. I might think about the possible consequences to
my living room carpet, but the mini marshmallow roast is so much
more fun than worrying about picking marshmallow out of carpet
fibers... and I really didn't want to work on my computer anyway.
So sometimes his enthusiasm is just what is needed.
We were going to the beach last weekend and the weatherman said
there would be a storm out at sea. I saw this as an impediment to
swimming because there would be riptides. My husband saw it as an
opportunity. He was going to bring his metal detector.
Storms wash up all sorts of things on the beach. You never know
when a gold doubloon might wash up and make us rich!
OK, so sometimes some realism is needed, but far be it from me to
impede the process of us getting rich.
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 |
 My husband thinks gardening will make us some money. He wants to
plant a garden next year. No, no, I said that wrong. He doesn't want
to plant a garden. He wants to pick and eat and sell the fresh
fruit, so we don't have to buy it. He sees the result. I see the
process: the tilling, the fertilizing, the weeding.
He says, "Look how much easier it will be to simply walk in the
backyard and pick a fresh tomato than to go all the way to the store
and buy one."
However, what he doesn't see -- and this is where realism comes
in -- is that boxes of Froot Loops, mouthwash and cat food don't
come from anything he could grow in our backyard. So, chances are, I
will still be sauntering down a grocery aisle, picking out my cat
food and cereal. For me, it would be far easier to push my cart over
to the produce section and pick out the perfect tomato for my
bologna sandwich... and, the grocery store is probably
air-conditioned.
Speaking of air conditioning, he's always wanted a convertible
sports car. We haven't had the conversation about this whim yet,
because you can't argue with the fact that we have three kids who
don't drive yet and a sports car has two seats. He can do the math.
At some point though, the kids will all be driving and we will
have the following discussion:
"Think of the wind blowing through your hair!"
"Think of the third-degree sunburn on your bald spot!"
I'm not a pessimist, I'm a realist. I simply realize that sunburn
on your head would soon trump the wind blowing through what little
hair we have left and we'd be looking for a buyer for our
convertible sports car in less than a month.
Eeyore wouldn't say he was proud of me, but he would be...
inside.
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info. |
