I do wish the whole world had my problems. The problems that are driving me nuts. Like the drain pipe that's now lying like a gigantic dead snake on the grass alongside an insanely deep open trench that runs from the middle of the back yard alongside the house and some thirty feet out into the front yard to where the yard slopes down toward the street. If the whole world had my problem, it would mean that everyone owned a house with a yard.
If every mother's biggest aggravation with regards to her kid(s) was the tornadic mess in their room, the super-fund toxic waste site in their bathroom, it would mean that every mother's kid(s) was healthy and doing well in school and not facing jail time, and not getting killed in Iraq or Lebanon.
If everyone had my problems, everyone would have a big dog that waits for them by the door every afternoon. A big dog that drops a slimy wet football in their lap in hopes they'll throw it at the staircase because the yard is off limits because there's a big trench out there. Everyone would have to walk their dog because of the yard being off limits; everyone would be able to walk; everyone would be strong enough to walk a 90+ pound dog; everyone who got wet in the rain could go back inside and get dry again and the aggravating thing about getting wet would be frizzy hair.
If everyone had my problems no one would be wondering where their next meal was coming from; everyone would be trying to lose ten pounds.
I'm not grateful for my blessings; I'm grateful for my problems.
Doesn't change the fact that you got royally swindled by both the contractor and the man who dug the drainage ditch ><
Thanks for reminding me that I should still be royally pissed off.