I could complain about the leaves that continually litter my driveway from my neighbours trees. I could complain about the self medicated lane cloggers at the supermarket who wander indecisively without a set buying plan and impede focused hunters and gatherers who just want to get in and get out. But I won’t!
complain about the time it takes to unravel my speaker cords each morning
before I can listen to my Ipod while walking, but I won’t. I could complain
about the spiders in our garden, who appear to want to spread their webs over
everything in our tiny kingdom, but I won’t.
complain about the time it takes to complete a transaction in the post office
as you wait in the inevitable line, but I won’t. I could complain about how television
networks deliberately overrun starting times for advertised programs to hold
you captive, but I won’t. I could complain about floury apples, or car alarms
or maybe even how soap got in my eyes this morning, but I won't.
The reason I
won’t complain is that every time I feel like having a good old fashioned
whinge, my father’s words come back to me through the mists of time. Words he
uttered every time my sisters and I grumbled and complained about our lot in
life. Dad would quietly say, in a voice just loud enough for us to hear, 'I complained because I
had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet.’ And quite
miraculously we would cease our lamenting.
When my own
kids complained I would sing this little ditty from my childhood, which I'm
sure they detested. So, in my own way I have followed my Dad’s lead.
Being a chum is fun
That is why I’m one
Always smiling, Always gay
Chummy at work
And chummy at play
Laugh away your worries
Don’t be sad or glum
And everyone will know that you’re a
Chum, chum, chum!