I think it’s fair to call me cranky, as Terry did the other day – it really is pretty cranky to dislike people praying for me, and piling on poor beleaguered Heather Armstrong adds yet another notch on the curmudgeon scale.
My friend Connie, who taught me the meaning of the word curmudgeon by both word and deed, was exceptionally cranky. She was exasperated by people fanning themselves with their Playbills in a Broadway theater; complained about my messages on her answering machine speculating about where she was; and walked out of a movie, sighing loudly, because it was too violent.
Her crankiness got worse and worse, and then she got Alzheimer’s. So Terry I’m going to try to stop, to be more kind and thoughtful – just as soon as this hellish heat wave ends.