I got an e-mail from Becky today. She told me she didn’t like a scene I wrote. She said she was okay with about half of it and thought it needed to be shortened.
So, I e-mailed back, “OK,” because I was okay with that. I liked the scene, but I wasn’t in love with it.
This brought to mind a conversation my wife and I had last night. Well, my wife did the talkin’ and I did the “Yeah,” “Uh huh,” “Yep,” and noddin’ parts.
We were headed to town when two deer darted across the road, leapt the ditch and disappeared into the woods. “Oh look,” she said, “we don’t usually see white tailed deer, aren’t they pretty?”
“Yep.”
“You know all those hunters that go out and shoot deer and have the heads stuffed and hung on the wall?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh huh.”
“I don’t think they’re pretty at all. If it was me I’d stuff the other end and hang it so you could look at the pretty tail.”
She was serious. Not that she’d ever traipse out in the woods to shoot a deer, but if she did…well, I guess she’d hang the deer’s ass on the wall.
So today when Becky e-mailed me back asking if I was offended by her comments, she was being so nice that I didn’t have the heart to explain to her that I was right, and she was wrong.
Like my wife, she has her way of looking at things, and I have mine. I wrote back that I wasn’t mad, they were just words and ideas, and we have plenty more where those came from…
…but I might have lied a little bit about having plenty more.
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