True colors

I've heard it said you can learn a lot about somebody by placing them in two situations: sitting in a traffic jam and untangling Christmas lights. I could add "family meeting" to that list, too.

That's when the true colors come out. I'm not taking anybody else's inventory. What I learned was a thing or two about myself this weekend.

First of all, I am a peacemaker. As one of the babies in the family, I hate to see discord and strained relationships. I try to bring peace to the situation but, admittedly, I am very impatient. (Yes, my well of patience and tolerance has run dry again!) I want a resolution and I want to move on. Let's not go back and forth over the same ground. That tires a person out -- just ask Carter, who covers the whole soccer field instead of staying in his zone!

Secondly, I was reminded I am a delicate flower. For someone who used to be in the LeRoy Hedberg Slave Labor Corps, I've gone soft. Yes, I used to haul wood and mow the grass and all that. But I was young. Do you know how much a cord of wood is? How about 3 3/4 cords? I'll tell how much. It's a stinkin' lot! It's about 420 armloads up and down the basement stairs. Surprisingly, my legs don't ache but my back certainly does. I'll let you know how my left arm is doing -- once the feeling comes back! All props to you physical labor types. I am going to have to stick with being a desk-job princess.

Lastly (well probably not lastly forever), I learned I am the anti-Betty. As in just the opposite of Betty Crocker or Becky Home-Ecy. I helped my mother make lunch on Saturday. She was making meatballs (real ones) while I peeled potatoes. Yes, I've peeled potatoes before and boiled them but on Saturday (insert dramatic pause), I made mashed potatoes for the first time in my life. In my house, potatoes come out of a box or they're baked (that's preferred) and gravy comes out of a jar. I wisely left the gravy-making to Mom. M-m-m that was a good lunch! Even the mashed potatoes were good. (No lumps, I swear!)

As I watched Jim and Carter clean their plates, I realized they have been cheated by having a such a "modern woman" in the house. Of course, if every meal was that good, it would no longer be a treat! And those two have their idea of a treat. Last week when I was gone one night, they went to a burger joint to get a half pound of fries then stopped at KFC for a bucket of chicken. As Carter put it: "We're eating like kings!"

I just couldn't deny them that pleasure.