Sunday, November 15, 2009


Sometimes I read something and it bugs me that people seem ungrateful for their great opportunities.
The other day, a woman on my Yahoo writing group sent an email complaining about all the cities she has to go to and the hotels she has to stay in while she is promoting her new book. I felt truly bad for her, which is why I sent back an email that said, "Ummm. I'd take it."
I would. I'd love to wake up and be disoriented, wondering where I need to speak today, convincing readers to buy my published book. Of course, I haven't sold a book yet, so that's not going to be me any time soon.
I dream of living in France and torture myself by reading the blogs of Americans who are happily settled there. So when one of them complains that she can't find a good donut in Paris, I'm not very sympathetic. Donut? Come on. You're surrounded with the best pastries ever. I suppose if I eventually move, I will miss American things and probably complain about them.
Then it struck me that I am ungrateful in a different way.
I have a husband who does housework and laundry, without expecting much in return. Most women would be thrilled to have a husband like this, and I am, but still find myself whining about some things.
I won't go into details about the sheets and the upside down mattress pad (yes, the mattress pad was on the bottom of the mattress rather than protecting the top of the mattress), but the missing toothbrush is one I can share.
When I came home from work on Friday, the house smelled like bleach and cleaning products. He had cleaned the bathroom. "Thanks!" I said, enthusiastically then forgot about it.
That evening, I was preparing to go teach another class. In the bathroom, I searched for my toothbrush. It was gone. I called Earl who was at work.
"What did it look like?" he asked, alerting my suspicions.
"Was it kind of ratty looking?" he asked, building his case.
"Just tell me," I said.
Since Tucker has been sick, he decided the toothbrushes should be boiled. But these are not his mother's toothbrushes. The cheap plastic melted when he tried to boil mine. So, he threw it away and didn't think about it again.
"I thought it was one of the kids'," he said.
Nevertheless, I was out a toothbrush and I taught until 10 so wouldn't have another chance to buy a new toothbrush until the next day. Ick!!!
So that is me, complaining about my husband cleaning the bathroom and melting my toothbrush when most women would be eternally grateful that their husbands cleaned anything.


BFF said...

We are all ungrateul in different ways and often indignant of those who are ungrateful for things we wish we had. I am always grateful for you though

Linda said...

Your husband sounds like a nice man. Being one of those who lives in France there are things I miss but fewer things every year. I always miss Thanksgiving though. I try and do it here but it's just not the same. I will always miss Target-can't beat those prices.

Linda said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Paulita said...

It was just a duplicate that's why I removed it:>
I can see your point, Linda, I would miss Target too. I guess once you get used to the things you love in a new country, those old things become sentimental, or maybe you just love the comfort you had.

Happy Thanksgiving said...

Sometimes trying to remain grateful is like trying to hold a hand full of water. The first day of being able to breathe after a bad cold, there is no greater gratitude. I literally kiss the ground but trying to stay in that space has eluded me. No matter how hard I try.

I have to find new things everyday that the "universe" is giving me and send constant prayers through out the day of "THANK YOU" and many of those wonderful gifts come through other people.

I don't want to be mushy but your blog, your postings are priceless to my day, when I can journey over and have a glimpse.

Calling out someone else as ungrateful is usually me being ungrateful about when I am at the moment and wishing I was somewhere else or wishing I had something else or wishing I was doing something else....blah blah blah.

And I Do This All The Time In My Head, (think others are ungrateful). So thanks for bring it to my full attention.

The Tour Dream Falls Flat

As I write this blog post, the Tour de France is about to set off toward Carcassonne, and you might recognize that name as a place not too f...