I ask “How is everything with you?”
You respond “Oh, I can’t complain.”
“Who says you can’t complain?” I say.
You appear nervous, and offer “I just mean things are pretty good.”
(The Pollyanna principle or positivity bias is the tendency for people to remember pleasant items more accurately than unpleasant ones.)
I’m having a day, so I say: “I don’t care how good things are, you can always complain. If you really can’t complain, then you may as well slip into a vegetative state, or join a cult.
Allow me to offer possible topics for your complaints:
Q) When are you EVER done with laundry?
A) When you’re dead.
Q) When will you finally lose those last 10 lbs?
A) When you have a terminal illness, right before you’re dead.
Q) When will your children finally spend time with you without you forcing the issue?
A) Your funeral, right after you’re dead.
Q) Will you ever be able to retire?
A) No. You’ll die at work.
Obviously, I’ve upset you. Here’s one more happy thought:
Q) What kind of friend won’t let you pretend you’re happy?
A) Me.
I just gave you the gift of a real complaint. “Your friend won’t let you be happy.”
So, you me ask me how I am. I decide to tell you not how, but why.
Kevin Leman wrote “The Birth Order Book”. He spoke at a church I belonged to when my children were children, not the teenagers they are today.
He explained his theory on how your place in the birth order among your siblings will determine who you are as an adult, and professional.
The 1st born child (This applies to only children as well,) is the responsible child, focused, organized, and successful. You want your doctor to be a first born.
The baby of the family is the irresponsible clown. They get away with murder throughout their childhood. Mommies love their babies, and never expect much from them other than cuddles and cuteness. They grow up to be disorganized slobs, who take nothing seriously (my words). Everybody loves to hang out with the baby. They have all the fun. Do not seek medical advice from the baby. (Kevin Lehman is the baby in his family, so he spent a lot of time discussing this group.)
When this discussion came to an end and the time came time for questions from the audience, a friend of mine raised her hand and asked Mr. Leman, “What about the middle child?”
He said “Who cares? Next question.”
Hey! I am a middle child! I must have my share in this conversation! Where’s everyone going? Seriously? That’s it? Everyone is really leaving?