It’s not polite to drink a man’s coffee and complain.”
–Donald L. Robertson (Stranger with a Star)
Have to be drinkin’ fast, this ol’ fence post has got to be on the road. Yep, goin’ up to see another couple tie the knot. So drink it fast, but don’t be a-burnin’ yur lips. Ahhh, good, I’ll be takin’ what’s left in the pot, well, that is, if’n yuh don’t go guzzlin’ it all up, with me.
One thing ’bout yuh, Pard, you don’t do any complainin’ lest it’s about my singin’. Don’t figure that one out either, but least yuh don’t complain ’bout life, work, the weather, or my coffee. Pard, I’ve seen some run to the sink to water it down, too strong. Hmpf…
Speakin’ of whiny babies, my eldest sent a text that showed a whiny baby of the first sort. Whinin’ that her husband now had to go to work; he couldn’t work from home. My mercy, she should be thankin’ the good Lord that he has a job. Whinin’ like that an’ if’n he carries it to work, well, he might just get fired. She was moaning that she doesn’t get to see him before he leaves. Mercy, get up, make his coffee, cook him breakfast, then kiss him goodbye an’ send him on his way. Whiny babies! Ugh, few things turn the stomach more. There was more to it along the same lines. Why aren’t we thankful for what we have?
When I worked with the Royal Rangers (for those who don’t know, it’s a boys’ group similar to Boy Scouts) we had a large pacifier made. The kid who whined had to wear it around the neck until the next boy whined about something. We also had a rope with a giant knot for those who had been knotty (naughty). That was rough on the neck. My classroom pass was a pacifier. Whiners! Ugh!
Pard, seems to me that too often we are like the children of Israel and want the Lord to just hand everything to us. The land was theirs for the takin’, but no, they had to murmur and complain–whine. It’s too hard, they’re like giants, we’re like grasshoppers, why don’t you just smite them Lord. Goodness, go in and conquer. No wonder, with all their whinin’ that the Lord got fed up with them. If they were gonna whine they were gonna do it in the wilderness.
Hold on, Pard, don’t be drinkin’ that last cup, that’s for muh trip. Wait, wait, don’t yuh start yur whinin’ on me. Yuh already had three cups. An’ yuh weren’t satisfied? Hmmm, don’t yuh become a whiny baby! Why Pard, next thing yuh’ll be doin’ will be wantin’ me to check yur cinch for yuh. So go have a good week, an’ I don’t want to hear ’bout yuh whinin’!
Vaya con Dios.