Smart People

It must be hard to be extremely smart as a child. That is, since you're so intelligent, they treat you like an adult and you fly through school. Then you graduate from college at a young age without ever really experiencing all the fun stuff we fondly think back on in our adult years.

But the really hard part is when you become an adult, let's say thirties/forties, and suddenly you realize there are a lot of smart adults and you're nothing special. You can't go around bragging that you graduated college at 16 or younger. Now you're old, nothing special, never experienced a true childhood and just plain o' smart.

Bless their hearts.

Wow, I'm happy that I was plain o' average as a child. Now? There are times I believe I'm smart. Usually when I'm driving. Well, that's another story for another day...

For Goodness Sakes! Grow Up!

I read online today about a man in Georgia (USA) who held his own mom at gun point. The reason? Because she wouldn’t iron his clothes. He was 29 years old. Personally, I believe at that age, he should be living on his own and definitely doing his own ironing.

I bet his mother was tired of picking up after him and putting up with his lazy butt. Then again she could be the lazy one. But for the man to say it’s women’s work, well, he’s the one who sounds a little backwards to me. Just my opinion. Besides, I don’t know all the facts.

Nowadays with so many women working outside the house, the male has to pitch in and help with the kids and housework. I know when my husband picks up after himself, it’s a big help. He even washes and dries his clothes. Not so much to help me but more so they’re “done right.” He’s a bit of a control freak.

Bless His Heart

A couple times lately going home, I've passed a jogger on my street. The road is five miles long with lots of dips and curves and no sidewalks. In fact, in some places it has deep ditches. Twice now I've come around a curve and then POW! he's there. Thankfully I don't go THAT fast (I promise, Diane). What I don't get is that the fellow has to be in his forties or older and still doesn't know he needs to face the traffic. You know, so you can jump off the road if some lunatic comes speeding by. I've thought about stopping and letting him know in a nice, concerned manner, but he has already shown he's nuts and probably wouldn't appreciate my interference.

(I know you like hearing me say this, Diane, and it's a facetious one.) Bless his heart.