Licking a Saltshaker

 

 

“Don’t lick that!”  Anna’s voice came ringing across the table with high volume and clarity.  “Mom!  Victoria’s licking the holes on the saltshaker!”

“Please don’t lick that, Victoria,” Elaine said to our middle daughter.  “Polite people don’t do that.  It’s a sign of bad manners.”

“Technically,” Vincent put in, with the wisdom gained through eight full years of education.  “Technically, you can’t lick a hole.  You can only lick the area around the hole.”

He thought a moment and then said, “I suppose you could lick a donut hole.”

“You could lick the hull of a ship,” Elliot said, helpfully.  “Although I suppose you’d have to get pretty close to it to do that.  It might be hard to do.”

“That hull is spelled differently,” Vincent said.

I suppose that this is the way of life.  It is awfully easy to miss the message that is delivered because of the manner in which it was delivered.

Few people have a way with words that great orators, like Abraham Lincoln or JFK, have demonstrated.  That doesn’t mean that there isn’t a message worthy of our attention.

This is particularly true when we receive a message that is critical of our behavior.  Typically, we exhibit one of two responses to messages like that.  Either we are critical of the way in which the message was delivered or, we are critical of inconsistencies in the life of the messenger.

All of this misses the point.  When there is a message for us, we should attempt to learn from it.

Even if the lesson is as simple as not licking the saltshaker.