The One Where She Was a Monster

Yesterday I found myself giving unsolicited advice to a friend. For like… forty-five minutes! I’ve never liked that quality in others, and have always admired my parents for being so good at refraining from doing so. It’s pretty bad when you can’t just have a friendly conversation, right? A listening ear? I don’t always have to have my say.

I need to watch my monster mouth, and ask myself, before I speak:

Is it timely?
Is it true?
Is it kind?
Is it necessary?

Maybe I should carry around a stack of post-it notes with those questions printed on them, with check boxes alongside. Maybe with a little reminder at the bottom that says, You. Are. Not. Everyone’s. Mom. Or maybe just some duct tape. For my mouth. Am I really the advice monster?

The One With the Grandma Shoes

These are my grandma shoes. I wore them all day today, while I did all of my grandma stuff. I peeled apples. I prepared a church lesson (and gave it, in my matching grandma dress). I made waffles for hungry missionaries. I baked peanut butter oatmeal M&M cookies. I read stories aloud. I worked a crossword puzzle. I gave some grandmotherly advice (that sounds suspiciously like regular advice) and managed to work in the phrase, Oh, my aching bones. I did dishes, wore an apron, and tucked someone into bed. All with a twinkle in my eye, and grandma shoes on my feet. Yeah, they're four inches tall...and not that easy to walk in. But it is more important to look grandmotherly than it is to be comfortable.

Hey, I am getting good at this grandma stuff.

Recipe for Peanut Butter Oatmeal M&M Cookies