Post #233

Michael is fond of using a certain four-letter-word that starts with an F. Of course, if you know Michael – or me, for that matter – you know it's not that (the 'Queen Mother of Dirty Words' as Ralphie puts it in A Christmas Story). Michael knows that F-word also, and probably all of its emphatic derivatives, thanks to movie clips, song lyrics, YouTube, and two offending adults in his life. The unheedful F-bomber on my watch (versus his mother's) won't be unmasked publicly. Although my sweet Meg-Pie heard him too – Papa Mike! – when he let it fly once around perked, tender ears. I was supremely annoyed. It's another F-word, however, that really gets under my skin. Michael overuses it. It's a passive, tepid, ugly thing to me, this word, utterly uncaring and spineless. It's ungrateful, unarmed, and uncommitted. It's dull and defeated. It lacks taste, authority, power, and choice. And, on top of everything else, it's lazy. Yeah, it's lazy and it scares the crap out of me because I use it too, in my thinking if nowhere else. It's a term and sentiment that easily disguises itself as accommodating and considerate. But in the end, it serves no one. There's a TED talk about it, the dangers and prevalence of the attitude it encourages. (I love TED, by the way.) It's a flimsy and feeble word, according to TED speaker Mel Robbins, and it's spelled F-I-N-E. Yeah, that's the one. Fine. "How was your day, Michael?" Fine. "You look upset, are you okay?" Yeah, I'm fine. "Do you have any thoughts on the matter?" No, it's fine. I slump shoulders or wring fists when I hear this, depending on my own energy, which is sometimes only 'fine.' I want him to be better than fine, and say so, and if not, then especially say so. But he's a kid. And then he'll be worse, a teenager. Jeanette is wonderfully expressive, and in her growing wisdom she skews to optimism and enthusiasm, even when it's not fantastically warranted, as is the case with some of the challenges we face as divorced parents. But life is good, and Jeanette is an adult, a somewhat seasoned one like myself, so maybe I shouldn't expect the same from Michael. Yet. I want his ship to point that way, even if it's turning and traveling slowly.

Should we talk about Megan for a second? Because if we do, the F-word in question is not a problem; if Megan says 'fine,' it's with dripping displeasure. I know she is precisely, unequivocally, and negatively expressing herself. I know exactly what she's thinking, or rather, complaining about. So we're all good; no hard feelings with Megan on this one, being fine or not fine. I could throw in the same wish about her developing more optimism, though. Megan, our little crabby-apple....