Being Thankful

Years ago Mom taught me a very painful lesson about "finding things to be thankful for when you don’t so much feel like being thankful." If memory serves: she taught it to me with the flat side of a hairbrush, then said “Now, 5 minutes ago you should have been thankful you weren’t getting a beating. See what I mean? Get creative.”

I apparently was unable to think of anything – NOT ONE SINGLE THING I was thankful for when a response was demanded of me. Back came the hairbrush and I rapidly began to wax philosophic about the sunshine, white grape juice (still a favorite), shade trees and Jesus.

Now, years later, I still self-medicate with a little manufactured thankful when the need arises. I don’t know why, but it helps. Or maybe I’m just thankful nobody is beating me with a hairbrush -I don’t know, but today I am proud to say that I'm thankful for quite a few things.

Just this morning I was thumbing through some instructional literature on outdoor survival (BASS Magazine) and I noticed a very nice photo of a northern pike on an interior page. He looked mean and furious. Some of that may have been due to the fat, white, thumb life-size Elmer Fudd had stuck through his gills, but what drew my attention more than anything was his snaggle-toothed scowl. He had multiple rows of positively-mean-looking, sharp, conical teeth sticking out every-which-a-way and a whole bunch of them were missing.

So, today I’m thankful that I don’t lose three front teeth every time I try to eat something. Can you imagine? You get up, fix an egg sammich, bite down into it , and come away with one less incisor and a loose canine? EVERY SINGLE DAY!?!?!

The animal world has it tough. That may be why they periodically eat us.

Either way – I’ll just hang on to the teeth I’ve got, thanks.