If there is one thing I can't stand it is a negative attitude. Probably because I simply don't understand it. I, even under the most bleak and oppressive of circumstances, will insist on finding the 'up' side of the situation. As a matter of fact, my unrelenting upbeat views and persistent positive outlook are so pronounced you might imagine they have spilled over to my significant other and children. To the contrary! In any given scenario, said partner and all four offspring can - and usually will - come up with their own doomsday theories on its causes and probable outcome. Each new description more grim and hopeless than the last and so vivid in their dire conclusions one would begin to suspect they've all been taking correspondence courses from the Stephen King School of reality.
For example, recently the pilot light went out on our heater. Picking up a flashlight and pack of matches, old man-of-the-house himself commented, "Well, you'll probably need a new furnace." In the voice of one resigned to the inevitable, and trudged down the stairs. Eldest daughter chimed in with, "Just so the gas hasn't been on all night - it'll blow up in his face and burn down the house...." Number-one son interrupted, "If the gas has been on that long it'll blow the house off the foundation - maybe level the whole neighborhood." Our younger daughter is too small to offer an entire theory, so she contented herself with the dour prediction that "Then we won't get to go to McDonald's for lunch!" The baby was screaming for his breakfast, and I was pooh-poohing everyone - "Nonsense! Nobody's going to blow up! It's just a bit of dust or something." For the record, nobody did blow-up (unless you count my yelling at Mr. Doom and Gloom when he got back upstairs and announced that, "It started up fine, but that doesn't mean you won't need a new one.") Personally, I think they SHOULD be a bit more like me. It just seems that all that negativism and those prophecies of disaster keep a black cloud of despair over everything. On the other hand, keeping a positive note on things and continuing to hope for the best puts a cheerier face on life. Just put me in any given predicament and I will smile my way through it. Why, I'm the one who, 9 1/2 months into my last pregnancy, awakened by severe stomach cramps, shrugged off solicitations of concern - insisting it was the flu. I almost had the baby on the kitchen floor too! My battle cry? "It's Nothing!"
Take the time the transmission just fell out of our car. In the middle of one of the busiest intersections in town. During rush hour. As we were surveying the destruction and feverishly calculating the quickest and easiest method to clear out of the way, aided by several colorful suggestions from blocked motorists as well as a cacophony of car horns, I remained my usual optimistic self. As I whipped back and forth, calming the kids, thanking the other motorists for their concern, and monitoring helpmate's response to the car horns, I offered my diagnosis to anyone who would listen.
"It's probably just a screw that's come undone or something."
Suddenly, I noticed the expression on my beloved's face as he looked up from the smoking ruins at me. It was plain exactly who he believed had a screw loose. And standing there in the middle of cross (and I do mean CROSS) traffic, I had an Epiphany. Was it possible that by attempting to completely ignore the mere possibility of unpleasant events in our lives, I was causing as many problems as I was trying to avoid? Shamed by this personal revelation I humbly offered my services, however they were needed, to my long-suffering partner. As I walked to the back of the car I hung my head and called on a higher power for help. And, as I leaned my shoulder into the tailgate and pushed with all my pent-up negativity, I could almost hear a heavenly host cheering me on. As it turned out it was only the kids with their noses pressed against the back window trying to tell me the brakes were still on. Later, as I lay on the couch with the heating pad on my back listening to my helpmate get estimates on the repair bill, I still hoped for the best, but managed to resist the urge to insist that the cost would be minor. After he was done, I even dared to moan and carry on a bit about my back.
And you know what that darling did? He fixed me a bowl of ice cream and sat down and held me in his arms as I ate it. Maybe I could get used to being negative.
For example, recently the pilot light went out on our heater. Picking up a flashlight and pack of matches, old man-of-the-house himself commented, "Well, you'll probably need a new furnace." In the voice of one resigned to the inevitable, and trudged down the stairs. Eldest daughter chimed in with, "Just so the gas hasn't been on all night - it'll blow up in his face and burn down the house...." Number-one son interrupted, "If the gas has been on that long it'll blow the house off the foundation - maybe level the whole neighborhood." Our younger daughter is too small to offer an entire theory, so she contented herself with the dour prediction that "Then we won't get to go to McDonald's for lunch!" The baby was screaming for his breakfast, and I was pooh-poohing everyone - "Nonsense! Nobody's going to blow up! It's just a bit of dust or something." For the record, nobody did blow-up (unless you count my yelling at Mr. Doom and Gloom when he got back upstairs and announced that, "It started up fine, but that doesn't mean you won't need a new one.") Personally, I think they SHOULD be a bit more like me. It just seems that all that negativism and those prophecies of disaster keep a black cloud of despair over everything. On the other hand, keeping a positive note on things and continuing to hope for the best puts a cheerier face on life. Just put me in any given predicament and I will smile my way through it. Why, I'm the one who, 9 1/2 months into my last pregnancy, awakened by severe stomach cramps, shrugged off solicitations of concern - insisting it was the flu. I almost had the baby on the kitchen floor too! My battle cry? "It's Nothing!"
Take the time the transmission just fell out of our car. In the middle of one of the busiest intersections in town. During rush hour. As we were surveying the destruction and feverishly calculating the quickest and easiest method to clear out of the way, aided by several colorful suggestions from blocked motorists as well as a cacophony of car horns, I remained my usual optimistic self. As I whipped back and forth, calming the kids, thanking the other motorists for their concern, and monitoring helpmate's response to the car horns, I offered my diagnosis to anyone who would listen.
"It's probably just a screw that's come undone or something."
Suddenly, I noticed the expression on my beloved's face as he looked up from the smoking ruins at me. It was plain exactly who he believed had a screw loose. And standing there in the middle of cross (and I do mean CROSS) traffic, I had an Epiphany. Was it possible that by attempting to completely ignore the mere possibility of unpleasant events in our lives, I was causing as many problems as I was trying to avoid? Shamed by this personal revelation I humbly offered my services, however they were needed, to my long-suffering partner. As I walked to the back of the car I hung my head and called on a higher power for help. And, as I leaned my shoulder into the tailgate and pushed with all my pent-up negativity, I could almost hear a heavenly host cheering me on. As it turned out it was only the kids with their noses pressed against the back window trying to tell me the brakes were still on. Later, as I lay on the couch with the heating pad on my back listening to my helpmate get estimates on the repair bill, I still hoped for the best, but managed to resist the urge to insist that the cost would be minor. After he was done, I even dared to moan and carry on a bit about my back.
And you know what that darling did? He fixed me a bowl of ice cream and sat down and held me in his arms as I ate it. Maybe I could get used to being negative.