In the eighties, I did some reporting for a small county newspaper. I learned a lot about a lot of subjects. I was really beginning to feel quite smart,
especially one day when I received a nice compliment. Tom the bartender congratulated me on an
article I had written, making some comment about my being the one who has the
brains in the family. My husband
graciously smiled about it.
But you can’t stay on the mountaintop long. Tom asked me how I wanted my drink – a cocktail
or a highball? My ego was squashed when
I had to ask what the difference was.
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