About a month ago I was hurtful to my daughter Elizabeth.
I wasn’t trying to be. I told myself I was trying to be clever and funny. But the truth is I was being a smart ass.
She has forgiven me. And that’s very good. But neither of us will forget it soon. That’s also good, because I don’t want to repeat that. I hate knowing I’ve been hurtful to someone I care about.
However, in the last day or two I did essentially the same thing. In what I thought was an attempt to be funny and clever, I misinterpreted the innocent, pleasant comment of someone I respect and am fond of. I responded as a smart ass. It had the same effect.
I titled yesterday’s post on this blog, “Chastened, but unabashed.” Today I am very abashed, and will try my best to resist future temptations to be a smart ass. When I try to be one, I usually succeed half way, and it’s always the latter half. The parties involved understand what I’m talking about.
Viki said in a recent comment that it seemed a lot of people were demanding public apologies from me, and that ought to tell me something (paraphrase). How very prescient of her.