I’m grumpy. Irrationally, petulantly, grumpy.
I’m grumpy because our winter was so mild that I didn’t really get a chance to wear my colorful collection of scarves. I have a friend in Saudi Arabia who sends me beautifully embroidered scarf/wraps for holidays and special occasions. When I wear them I’m prone to dramatically flinging them over my shoulder and “sweeping” into and out of rooms like a washed-up movie star. I didn’t get enough of that this winter and it’s making me grumpy.
|So beautiful - you would sweep dramatically too.|
I’m grumpy because I passed by my kids’ orthodontist’s office the other day and realized I haven’t been there in a while. Their orthodontist is ridiculously tall and handsome, so my children’s painful monthly adjustments always provided me with a nice little mom-thrill. I had three kids in braces over 11 years, so I came to look forward to that harmless thrill. My youngest is 11 and as snaggle-toothed as the rest of them, so I’ll no doubt be back in his office soon enough … but that makes me grumpy too. Four out of four kids placed in the crappy, crooked teeth lottery? Grumpy.
I’m grumpy because I have seven pair of glasses, I can’t see out of any of them and I lost the one pair I liked the most. I’m super grumpy because virtually all of my interests require the ability to see, (imagine that) so it’s very annoying to keep getting eye exams and new glasses only to discover a few months later that I still can’t thread a needle or see my computer screen without tilting my head at some perfect 38 degree angle. At my last visit, after several rounds of “Better One? Or Better Two?” (I hate that game), the Dr. selected the optimal lenses and pronounced it my new prescription. “It’s still blurry” I complained. “Yeah, well, that’s the best we can do” he told me. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? People can get their cataracts removed on their lunch hour, but you can’t correct my vision so everything doesn’t look like it’s in perpetual soft focus? GRUMPY!
And now that I think about it, I’m even grumpier to realize that after 12 years of public schooling and 5+ years of college, I still have only the most remedial of math skills and I just made up that 38 degree angle thing in the previous paragraph. For all I know that might mean my head would have to be folded behind my knee. It seems pathetic to me that I recently had to Google how to use the % key on my calculator. I’m not stupid, but in all that schooling I had exactly two math teachers who didn’t make me want to poke myself in the eye with a protractor. What is wrong with our educational method for teaching math skills? It’s making me grumpy SQUARED (like I know what that even means).
I’m grumpy about my fingernails. A month ago every fingernail was in perfect protein harmony – all about the same length and nicely polished. I could tap them against things with a satisfying click, point fetchingly across the room, and scratch hard to reach places. Then, within a couple of days, every single one of them broke, split, cracked and peeled until it appeared as if I had recently clawed my way out of a rock quarry. They look awful and it’s making me grumpy.
I’m grumpy that my mom lives 500 miles away from me. I LIKE my mom. I like to talk with her, visit with her and work on family history together. Better yet, SHE likes ME and thinks everything I do is awesome and brilliant, so how could I NOT like and miss her? It ticks me off that planning a trip home to visit is akin to mounting a military invasion. Grumpy.
|Mom on the left. Obviously. Doesn't she look fun?|
Probably everyone has seen the internet memes about “First World Problems” and I suspect this is what I sound like:
I know I’m being a cry baby and someone should call the Waaaambulance and that there are many wonderful things in my life for which I should be grateful. But I’m still grumpy.
But you know what I’m really grumpy about? Eli had surgery on his right foot about three weeks ago to lengthen his Achilles tendon and release the tendons in all of his toes so that someday he might have the possibility of walking.
He can’t scratch it, he can’t stand, he can only sleep on his back and his leg is supposed to be elevated at all times. He can’t get comfortable and he can’t really go anywhere because we have a three-foot long board inserted under the cushion of his wheelchair to keep his leg extended. He probably has three more weeks of casting, then therapy for several weeks and when that is done, they‘ll do it all over again on the other foot.
|Top of foot where they re-routed tendons.|
|Stitches from cutting all the toe tendons.|
So I know I really have no business being grumpy. And that makes me even grumpier.
What are you grumpy about? Go ahead - I hereby declare it "Grump Day." Do tell and maybe I won't feel so guilty about the cloud of Grump smothering me.