Dumbing Down or…Progress?

Every year more words are inducted into Webster’s Dictionary. There is ALWAYS backlash from the literary word masters of our day and age…ie word snobs. That’s what I shall calleth them…Those thespians that apparently are firmly wedged in the dark ages where thine, ere and thee were popular, whom want to ignore that “Muah ha ha” is now an acceptable real word.

They call it “dumbing down” the English language.

I disagree. I call it literary, expressive evolution. Ridiculous as the new words may seem. Shouldn’t we at least document these changes to our vocabulary? I mean, if the Mayans are right and we are wiped out in December, wouldn’t we want futuristic explorers to know we were so advanced that we used words like crunk, hoser, ginormous and smackdown?

What the literary snobs of our time don’t talk about is that there are also words like textaphrenia, retainage, deconflict, agreeance, and phytoconstituents being added as well. So, along with the doltish terms being appended, are also the hyperintelligent.

I mean how can we add some words and not others – just because you may not be a fangirl (also a new word – look it up) of them.

Grow up and stop being such a linguistic bully. Let those silly little guys live and have their place in literary history too.

Falling Star…or Crash Lander

So, apparently I am not the most graceful person.  Actually, you could compare me to a female version of Kramer at times.  And I have had some pretty memorable and laughable falls in my life.  Here are some of the better ones.

Ski Trip Fall

It was a girls ski weekend.  You know, some best friends, hitting the slopes (or small mounds) of Central Ohio.  Now…a lot of people have trouble with the whole ski lift thing.  I mean, come on…it can be a little tricky and intimidating, right?  But most people have trouble with the exit.  It’s pretty common to see novice skiers topple over at the top.  But have you ever seen someone fall trying to get ON the darn thing?

Well, envision this.  You know that thing just whips around like some carnival ride gone wild.  So here we all are – 70 or so people converging upon the same spot like seagulls fighting for the same fish – everyone trying to get at the next chair…or the next chair…

So in all the pressure I scooted up too far – and the next lift was whipping around so to avoid getting clobbered by it, I had to lean…but instead, because my legs are strapped into concrete like boots that make bending from the waist down impossible, of course I fall.  Ok…but here is where it gets really ridiculous…

Have you ever tried to get up with ski boots strapped into skis?  It is not the easiest thing.  So here I am, aware that 70+ people are watching and anxious to keep the line moving, so I start FLOPPING around like a fish out of water trying to get myself up!  Maybe envision someone trying to do that 80’s worm thing…that might be close to what I was doing I think.

I am really struggling and I see the ski lift guy come towards me and I thought, “Oh thank you nice man” only to find out he was not coming to help me at all!  He took this moment to sweep the ice debris away from the platform area!!  He looks at me and says something like, “Get yourself together, Ma’am”.  Bah!!

Chairs are hurtling over my head, and that is all he can do for me?  Really?!  So I finally managed to get myself up in what felt like minutes, but was actually only seconds and struggled/waddled my penguin like way up to the platform to catch a chair.

But in my struggle, I got my ski pole in an odd position so that when the chair whipped around to scoop us up, the pole lodged itself between my ski and the ground so I almost fell off the chair just as soon as I got on it because the force of the pole smashing under the weight of my ski was about to force me out! 

So I let out another little scream as I grabbed onto the metal bar of the lift just to keep from being flung off.  Not to mention the force and pressure of all that weight being pressed onto my one calf was crazy!!

After a few seconds of silence, I look over at my friends with wide eyed wonder and puffy breathing  and at the same time…it’s like we replayed the whole hectic scene in our heads and we laughed until we cried all the way up the 2 minute ride to the top of a little mound. 

Snow Tubing Fall

At the SAME place as the aforementioned fall.  2 years later.  With the whole family.  This time there are these conveyor belt like things that take you up the hill.  The first few times – no problem.  But after a few times I notice something feels a little different.

Around the 4th or 5th trip up…somewhere in the middle of the ascent, I lose traction…and I start sliding down this conveyor belt.  Nothing can stop me…I panic…I am sliding and no matter how I place my feet or where…I keep sliding…I have zero traction.

Luckily my girls were in front of me and UPhill from the gravity that was sliding me DOWN the hill towards complete strangers.  Luckily my honey, my rock, Will was between me and the complete strangers.  I look at him in sheer terror and I see the confusion and shock in his eyes as we are both trying to process what the heck is going on!

I’m screaming, people are staring at me and I jump off the conveyor.  The lift operator stops the thing long enough for me to get back on again thinking I just lost my balance, but the same thing happens!  I start sliding again!  This time Will just caught me and held onto me until we got to the top.  We look at the bottom of my boots and they were complete ice…like an inch thick. 

So there after…I made sure to keep kicking the ice off my boots.

Biking Fall…1st biking fall.

About 7 years ago I went biking with my niece and nephew.  My oldest daughter was 3 at the time and I was pulling her behind me safely enclosed in the bike cart…(thank goodness). 

We were on a nature trail, and the sun hit just right so I could see this Gi-normous spider coming down from the trees.  At the speed I was going and with little room to move right or left, I had no options…I was heading right for it…it was going to land on me or my little 3 year old!!

So, with no obvious other options my brain commanded my hand to lock on the brakes.  In the split seconds following that fateful move, I fly over the handle bars, skid my shoulder on the pavement, and proceed to do tuck rolls off into the grass and trees, while my niece and daughter safely watch in shock. 

But…I avoided that spider, by golly. 

Biking Fall – take 2!

Most people fall while actually riding their bike.  Have you ever seen anyone fall off their bike simply trying to get off of it? 

We were at the busiest intersection of the entire 20 mile ride.  My dear husband simply asks…”Hey babe, can you push the cross walk button please?”. 

Harmless enough…I’ve done it 100’s of times.  “Sure!”.

But this time was different.  I lost my balance, my foot got caught up on the pedal…I am not exactly sure…all I know is that I start falling…for no real apparent reason, in front of about 50 people in their cars at this intersection. 

It was like it happened in slow motion…I just started falling, and then the more I tried to not fall…the more that I fell.  It’s almost like I could see myself falling and there was nothing I could do about it. 

I saw the faces of my husband and daughter – their look of shock and confusion – and though it felt like slow motion, it was all happening too fast for anyone to really be able to react.  I was just out of reach of anyone. 

And I didn’t just fall off the bike…I fell, dropped and rolled…it was like the fall that just kept on giving.  In fact…I almost rolled right into the street.  My head was near the edge of the sidewalk just at the street and I finally came to a halt. 

And of course, it was the strangest position.  There I was, head almost in the street, on my back, with my feet up in the air!  Bah!!  Like a dog or something.

So, I quickly get up and get on my b

ike and immediately start cracking up. 

That is about when all the people who had watched this, finally let loose.  Now they knew I was ok, and it was time to laugh, honk, yell things at me and wave as they drove by. 

All that…and I never even pushed the darn button. 

The day in the life of a real live muppet

Today I rolled over my own toe with my office chair. Yes, really. Like I mangled it. And though it hurt so ridiculously bad I am laughing out loud even writing this because it was so down right hilarious. Picture this:

We have this huge open space with really smooth floors and super fast rollie chairs. We all just kind of fling ourselves over to each other’s desks when a discussion is needed. So, me and my exposed toes (as I was wearing sandals) proceed to wing myself over to a coworker, but stop short. What? What just happened?

Yes, it was at that moment that my nervous system signaled to my brain that my toe was in some serious distress. However…my brain could not fully process this news. I was in denial. Like…WHO actually runs over their own toe? Not me.

So I tried to move…but of course I could not…because my toe was stuck in the wheels!! All mangled up, I might add. I quickly realize that I couldn’t just pull my foot free…because I was still sitting in the chair – with all my weight on my throbbing toe!

So at this point – I look like a muppet character…I have to somehow get off the chair, but I am pinned down. So I start to do this hopping kind of motion – like perhaps someone that is ducktaped and held hostage in a chair – trying to hop across the room just to somehow FREE my toe!! YES – this is where you can laugh out loud. It was seriously funny.

I finally free myself, which happened in a matter of seconds, but it seemed like minutes – only to find my worst fears true. My toe is mangled and toe nail all messed up.

I still choose to ignore what just happened – again, pure denial – try to appear normal and proceed to carry out my mission of addressing the original work related issue at hand. Only to find out that I cannot actually talk normally and I was about to throw up from the level of pain.

That’s when it got real. I had to accept that it happened. It was bleeding a little bit and swelling fast. I managed to not throw up, but proceeded to do what any self respecting person would do. I went to the bathroom and had a good cry. I found myself re-inacting a Nancy Kerrigan newscast, as I said out loud between a few sobs, “Why?! Why me? How could this happen?!”. Which made my tears turn into laughter.

A dear coworker handed me a frozen water bottle in between earnest concern and what I can only explain as an Emmy award performance as she somehow managed to not inappropriately laugh at this very humorous, but potentially sensitive moment.

That’s when I took the time to actually imagine just HOW silly the whole event must have looked, I burst into laughter several times throughout the day – wishing it could have been caught on tape because it would have been hilarious to see it. A few colleagues joined in once they realized they wouldn’t hurt my feelings.

Next ridiculous event: Later in the day I was getting frustrated with my blackberry. This is the 3rd one I have had because of different defects. The touch pad was not working on this one, and was getting increasingly worse over time. I had made my mind up that 3 strikes and your out. I was going to turn it in to get something altogether new tomorrow.

Later this evening I was messing with it and noticed that there was a tiny thin film of plastic on the touch pad. I removed this little rascal and it has worked like a dream.

Of course I imagined how ridiculous I would have looked going into the Verizon store to share my dilemma…only for them to remove that little plastic liner and look at me with pity and more humor. Oh yes, that would have been fun.

Welp. Enough ridiculous fun and cold compresses for one day. Time to hobble off to bed. This gimpy muppet is exhausted. But at least I can call or text someone now…

I’m Amazing!

These are the words of my very confident and innocent 2 year old. She is just repeating what I say to her when she accomplishes something “amazing” to me. She readily accepts that she is amazing. It’s funny to hear, yet wonderful.

It’s funny because we automatically assume as adults that if someone says that they are amazing that they are being arrogant, but I am not talking about the kind of “amazing” that is arrogant. Not in the entitlement way. I am talking about the kind of amazing that says I actually have some self worth. I am loved. I am accepted. I am ok. This is a healthy kind of amazing…not a delusional one…right? Perhaps. Let’s investigate.

So…the question is…at what age do we stop believing that we are amazing?

Most likely it is as soon as we are aware of not just ourselves but others – how we add up, compare and contrast on a sliding scale of perceived good to bad. Sadly, my oldest daughter already doubts that she is amazing. I saw this happen somewhere between Kindergarten and 1st grade.

And then I think of myself and I know I stopped believing I was amazing at probably 3 or 4 when my mom was having severe mental break downs and calling me terrible names as she shouted out at voices that didn’t really exist and blaming me for things that were not even visible.

We are robbed of our innocence as soon as awareness is conceived that we are a burden, full of flaws, or are not as good as someone else.

It makes me think back to the garden of Eden. If you believe, great, if you don’t then entertain the thought anyway. The idea is this whole concept and awareness of good and evil. Adam and Eve only knew good. Innocence. They didn’t have the burden of even knowing right from wrong – if they were doing good or bad. They had one simple command. Don’t eat that freaking fruit!

Well…any parent knows – don’t tell a kid what they CAN’T do! Forgive me – I am not suggesting that God is not a good parent, but come on…He was a first timer here. Looking back I can just see God thinking…yes…I should have not even mentioned that fruit – then they probably never would have even thought about it!

But this is my limited perspective of God…my silly way of looking at things just for fun. But the truth is that God is all knowing. He knew what He was doing from day one. That is hard to understand in itself. But that is for a different conversation.

What I want to stick with for this post is this idea of awareness. It wasn’t until they finally gave in to that irresistible forbidden fruit – that they were even aware of right and wrong, good and evil. And how harsh was their payment. I mean I think I am being hard on my child for giving her a time out – but banishing them from the garden of Eden forever?! Wow…that is some hard core parenting right there.

Adam and Eve knew at that very moment…they were no longer amazing.

An even deeper question. I wonder if they even felt loved anymore? And is that really the bigger issue at hand? Is what my youngest, innocent daughter saying is that she is loved? Is what my oldest daughter and me and everyone else that doesn’t feel “amazing” is saying is that we don’t feel loved? Maybe…maybe not. Maybe sometimes…

I guess – it is just the natural order of things. I guess we can’t really think of ourselves as amazing. But wouldn’t it be good to think of ourselves as loved and wanted. Are these two concepts tied together?

I mean, isn’t it strange how when you love someone, you want so much for them to feel amazing? Don’t you want your kids or your friends to know how thankful you are they are in your life? Doesn’t it just break your heart to see a beautiful friend or daughter tearing herself apart and down because she knows without a shadow of a doubt that she is NOT amazing.

It’s such a strange phenomenon – how you could desire that for someone else so much, yet at the same time not be able to apply it or accept it for yourself.

Innocence and self worth is strange…It’s like what is acceptable and wonderful for kids is taboo for grown ups. Something as innocent as saying “I’m amazing” is really cute and wonderful to hear from a 2 year old…not so great to hear from a 32 year old. This age/time continuum applies to all kinds of things though, doesn’t it?

For instance…Seeing my two year old walk around the house in nothing but a diaper, cowgirl boots that are too big for her and a cowgirl hat is absolutley adorable and cute. It is picture worthy! It is innocent and sweet.

But me walking around the house in nothing but boots, undies and a hat…that would be down right strange and unacceptable. (well…this would depend on the circumstances perhaps – come on, spank me cowboy…but I am digressing now…) The point is that it is not so innocent and sweet anymore – it has become something very different – just because of age and awareness.

Alrighty then…I want you to go the mirror and say to yourself, “I’m smart enough, I’m good enough, and dogonit…people like me!” ~ Stuart Smalley/Al Franken (SNL). Or think about Ron Burgandy and how is “Kind of a big deal”.

See? It becomes funny. How can anyone be serious and say that stuff? Let alone believe it.

Getting back to the taboo thing and how age changes things…When I think of grown adults who actually believe they are amazing…I don’t really find them amazing at all. I find them dull, egocentric, selfish and not amazing. Take Paris Hilton for instance, the poor easy target that she is. Now that is a girl that has some self esteem to the extreme. But she is not doing anything positive with it! I wonder if Paris Hilton really knows “love”?

Mother Theresa on the other extreme was one of the most amazing women of our lifetime. And she definitely did not see herself as amazing. in fact, it wasn’t about her at all. She was motivated out of love for others. Her own desires and “self” was completely removed from the picture. I don’t think she really cared what anyone thought about her. But I do think that she knew and felt loved.

SO – maybe this idea of love and “being amazing” ARE tied togther, but not as I originally thought. Maybe we don’t feel loved from being told we are amazing, but maybe we feel amazing when we are actually loved.

Maybe we can do amazing things when we are not focusing on ourselves at all but instead – by focusing on loving others -we can actually do amazing things.

I’m amazed at how amazingly complicated yet simple this is all becoming.

Tell someone they are amazing today – but more importantly – tell them WHY they are amazing. Because I bet cha it has something to do with how they make you or others feel when they are around. The most amazing people in this world are simply the ones that make you feel loved. Even when you are not amazing.

Sigh…it is hard being so amazing.

New and Improved! Stubble Trouble

I love seeing the same old products continually trying to reinvent themselves to stay “New and Edgy”.

Let’s take the razor for instance. You know, back in the day…you had one single blade. That’s all you really needed as a beginner shaver to remove an ankle and live out the shower scene of psycho. Well, then they came out with double blades. Then triple blades…and now the Quattro.

Is there a razor out there with 5 or 6 blades yet? If not, I am quite sure some monkey brained marketer and new product developer duo is working all hours of the day and night to be the first to release the latest and greatest in limb…I mean hair removal.

I am quite sure that by the time my daughters are old enough to shave their legs that a release form will have to be signed as you make your purchase from a merchant or pharmacist behind the counter. Because the razor will have to be kept under lock and key as it could also be used as weapons of war and destruction. Heck…there might even be a 30 day waiting period and back ground check.

I mean really? 5 and 6 blades? I want to see some REAL marketing come out on these products. Not the cliché pictures of beautiful men and woman caressing their amazingly smooth and attractive bodies and faces. How about people showing off their exposed striated muscles and tendons…that would be a little more realistic.

I want to see Freddy Krueger on one of these commercials. You’d see him come out looking all scary and ominous and then suddenly this 6 blade razor comes out and scares him off as he goes running out of the room screaming like a little girl. Come on! Now, I would buy that razor! In fact if I was a razor company I would create a new sub company called…Krueger blades.

And how about some product responsibility here? Shouldn’t instructions come with these things at this point? I mean a razor with 6 blades is not for everyone. Why use a machine gun when a small pistol could do the job just as effectively. You have to size up your prey here.

They should have razors in clear defined categories so one can gauge where they fall into the hairiness bell curve:

One blade = fine or thin hair, possibly almost bald

Two blades = thin to medium hair, fairly normal

Three blades = thick to course hair, getting into the fringe of pretty hairy

Four blades = Fur

Five blades = Circus star potential

Six blades = You are a freak of nature and should consider NEVER wearing a swim suit in public. Ever. No matter how many blades you shave with. And by the way…did you sign the release form?

You know? Then it would make it fairly easy to figure out the stubble weapon of choice.

It just gets silly I tell you…improving just for the sake of improving. Where does razor technology go from here? Maybe the Laser Razor is next. An in-home answer to laser hair removal…or so they say. Sure…it’s all fun and games until someone disintegrates a limb. I can hear it now “Why me? God…How could this happen?”

Or how about this: The Razonator – the hair and flesh remover…when hair removal is just not enough. It’s the new sensation. The Razonator not only removes the hair follicle, but also the skin containing it, so you can be ASSURED that you will NEVER have to shave again.

Humans. We are seriously ridiculous sometimes. Our antics never fail to entertain.

Watch for a follow up post for New and Improved 2: Cleaning products. Coming soon to my blog near you.

By the way…did I mention that I am working on a new web site. It is going to have my blog on there and a lot more. It will be like my blog…but New and Improved!

Floral Homicide

I can hardly believe what is happening! Again this year – Just the same as last year and the year before.

Massive floral homicides are taking place all across the country. All in the name of this ridiculous, misinterpreted, over sensationalized holiday headed up by cult leader St. Valentines.

Most people see a beautiful bouquet of flowers. For some reason I see pristine beauty cut in it’s prime to sit in a vase to be admired or worse, ignored, as it withers and dies a slow public death.

There are plenty of animal activists…but where are the floral advocates? Who will step in and take action for these poor, voiceless beauties? They are raised in massive greenhouses, many of them never see the real sun or light of day. They just sit there.

Raised from just seedlings, they are just reaching their prime and then – WHACK! Chop, chop and they’re goners! No germinating for these poor souls. No birds and bees coming along to spread along their pollen and legacies.

So I am hereby proclaiming this National “don’t kill any flowers” day.

Yes…perhaps I am being extreme, but hey…someone has to do it.

And by so doing, that means that everyone would have to find a different way to show their valentine how much they cared about them. Instead of a cliché floral homicide route, people would be forced to do some other jester of kindness instead of escaping so easily with a quick last minute over the counter purchase thinking they have done their yearly Valentine obligatory duty.

Yes…this means people would have to be creative. Do something out of the ordinary. Something really special. Something from the heart instead of a going-through-the-motions check list purchase.

I heard that a few husbands cleaned the house for their wives. Now…THAT is a great Valentines gift. A massage, a new favorite CD, a special date night of choice…all these are so much better than giving the gift of floral death.

Ok. I have a small confession to make. I have two bouquets sitting on my kitchen table. One was from work (a perk of working for a flower/gourmet food company) and one is from a well meaning guy friend, who also took me to a great place for dinner. And guess what? I appreciated the gesture. Darn it.

I guess there is always next year to protest. I have all year to make my dastardly plans. I better start now.

Silly instructions

Don’t know about you, but I just needed a good laugh.  I was eating some snacks earlier and for some reason I thought about the very helpful and detailed instructions I read on a bag of peanuts years ago on a flight to somewhere – yes when peanuts were still allowed on planes.  It read, “Open bag, eat nuts”.  I thought it was hilarious.  It made my day (it’s the simple things in life) but it made me think that someone out there has as warped of a sense of humor as I do…unless of course they were serious – and in that case?  It’s still hilarious.

So I found on line some other stupid instructions and here are some of the funnier ones I found.  You have probably seen or heard some of these, but some were new to me so I put all my favorites together and added some of my own commentary.  I know that sometimes these instructions are put on the items because of legal issues…or because perhaps someone really did some of these ridiculous things.  As Homer Simpson would proudly say, “Because of me, now there’s a sign”.  But I have to believe that some of these are just plain silly and the manufacturers are possibly showing their sense of humor…maybe?  I can only hope. 

On Sears hair dryer:
Do not use while sleeping.   But it saves so much time when I do that!

On a bag of Fritos:
You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside.   Great – I have always wanted to give shoplifting a try (no, not really).  I’d love to just start opening up bag after bag and show the clerk the instructions…see? I’m just doing what I was told to do.

On a bar of Dial soap:
Directions: Use like regular soap.  Is Dial irregular soap? Or super hero soap or something?

On packaging for a Rowenta iron:
Do not iron clothes on body.    Really? Even in the winter when I get really really cold?

On Boot’s Children’s Cough Medicine:
Do not drive a car or operate machinery after taking this medication.    Just as I suspected…we could save millions on the rising costs of insurance if we would just keep those 5 year olds off the roads!

On most brands of Christmas lights:
For indoor or outdoor use only.  As opposed to outer space or underwater or some other dimension or something?

On a Japanese food processor:
Not to be used for the other use. See…this is one that opens the door to all kinds of things that I wouldn’t have even dreamed of before…now that they say I shouldn’t, I’m tempted to try it for the other use…hmmmm…but what IS the OTHER use?  I give up…what is it? 

On a ketchup bottle:
Instructions: Put on food.    Yes…and THEN what?  And WHOSE food?  I need some specifics here!  Actually I need to enforce this one better with my two year old who would prefer to just eat the ketchup directly out of the bottle or lick it off her fingers if I would let her.

On a mattress:
Do not attempt to swallow.     But I was having a dream I was sleeping on a huge marshmallow…can you blame me?

On a child’s Superman costume:
Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly.    Buzz kills!  But I think this one might be valid and was actually put on there because of my brother. 

In a microwave oven manual:
Do not use for drying pets.    Shew…thank goodness my animals are too big…I didn’t know about this!

On a bottle of laundry detergent:
Remove clothing before distributing in washing machine.    I’m confused – are they saying I shouldn’t get into the washer, or are they suggesting I should do the laundry naked?  And what exactly am I supposed to be distributing in the washing machine?

In a kettle instruction manual:
The appliance is switched on by setting the ‘ON/OFF’ button to the ‘ON’ position.   Yea…but do they tell you how to turn the thing off again?  Please don’t leave me hanging like this!

In a hotel bedroom:
Please do not turn on TV except when in use.    What?  I don’t even know what to say to this one, but my head hurts.

On a blowtorch:
Not used for drying hair.    But nothing else sets my hair products quite like it.  I believe this was probably an 80’s thing…blow torches and aqua net is the only thing that makes sense when I come to think of it for that metal hair bands signature look.

On a bottle of hair dye:
Do not use as Ice Cream topping.   But it is quite fine and tasty for pancakes and waffles though.

On a box of fireworks:
Do not put in mouth.    Just ears and noses.

On a toaster:
Do not use underwater.     Thanks so much for the tip!  I’m guessing it’s because the bread would get really soggy and defeat the whole purpose of toasting it, right?  I mean, what other reason could there be?

On a Swedish chain saw:
Do not attempt to stop chain with your hands or genitals.     Really? As if hands weren’t ridiculous enough…did we really have to go THERE?  Move over Lorraina Bobbit…apparently there are some Swedish dudes and chicks that have some REAL issues. 

On a toilet cleaning brush:
Do not use orally.    Because it IS so tempting and easy to mistake as a toothbrush…I mean, I know I have accidentally made this mistake…a few times now. I mean, I am a woman of efficiency here. How many times have you finished cleaning the toilet and thought…hey…I could just kill two birds with one stone here, ya know?

In a dishwasher manual:
Do not allow children to play in dishwasher.    Darn…I had just scheduled my next toddler play group meeting in mine after they had so much fun in the washing machine last time…and I just found that the washing machine is not safe either…oh where, oh where will we play now?! And while we are at it…they are specific about children not being allowed in there…but what about ex mother in laws?

On a TV remote:
Not Dishwasher safe.    What? I just found out from a previous note that no toddlers are allowed in dishwashers, and NOW I can’t put my remote in the dishwasher either?  Man! Next they are going to tell me that I’m going to have to stop letting my cats pee in there too!

 Have you ever had a situation where you didn’t have the idea of doing something really stupid until someone planted the idea in your head by telling you NOT to do it?  I remember a time when I was really little, but old enough to remember this…and obviously too old to be using a pacifier.  I was doing some kind of craft that required scissors.  I had my pacifier there too.  Mom says, “Now, Lee Ann, don’t cut your pacifier”.  I remember thinking, hmm…now THAT sounds like an interesting idea.  And I eventually did cut it because I couldn’t resist experimenting what would happen, how it would feel to cut through it – all because she had given me the suggestion.  The thought had never even crossed my mind until she said not to do it. 

Yes, we have all probably been guilty of not helping our own cause by trying to help, but not really helping.  Some of these instructions are just plain silly or conjure up more questions than answers.  Sometimes we try to say something so clearly that it makes it completely ridiculous or even more vague…Like perhaps me…right now.

I’ll quit while I’m ahead, or behind or whatever ridiculous path I have led you down this time.  Thanks for reading and if nothing else, I hope you at least got a couple good chuckles out of those silly instructions like I did.