When, precisely, did this become a *bad* thing?

When a person is concerned about a friend, and expresses that concern carefully, thoughtfully, artfully, and with precision, should it be expected that the friend in question get pissy about it?

I don’t think she reads this blog (hey, most of the time I think I might be talking to myself, but that certainly hasn’t stopped me yet, has it? Ha!) but frankly, I don’t care if she does. I have been nothing but supportive and helpful and a good friend for at least five years. But this defensive act has to stop. Getting picky at people when they tell you how much they care about you is just silly.

There. I feel better.

This has to be a short post. I must sew up at least two dresses today, and finish another two. And I just remembered this morning that I neglected to measure my FBIL’s foot on Saturday for his wedding kilt hose. Grr…

Wish me broken legs: I’m singing for tiny children this evening! (Nothing like an evening at the opera for a bunch of Sparks and Brownies. Personally, I’m worried the presentation will be too long, and that they’ll start to get antsy. Let’s hope I’m wrong!)


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