Misunderstandings come in every shape, form, and email imaginable. Almost every day someone complains about an email they\’ve received from a friend. Just last week I overheard a woman complaining to another friend. She said,

“I just got an email from ___ and she said there\’s no such thing as a perfect match in romance! Can you believe she said that? My husband is the perfect one for me, I\’ll have her know! She\’s just jealous. She couldn\’t catch a cold, much less a man.”

And so she ranted … and raved … ad nauseam. I wanted to point out to her that
1) it\’s just an opinion and not life-altering; save your angst for the big stuff, and
2) I\’d crawl all over her hubby getting to a REAL man. I mean any man that insists his wife called him, “Herbie the love machine,” is one brick shy of a load. The 70s called and they have your leisure suit.

I\’ve found that emailing notes back and forth cannot replace face-to-face chats, discussions, or visits and so I just HAD to add my two cents worth to the conversation. I suggested that the offended party try putting herself in the other woman\’s computer chair for a minute. Maybe this would help with the interpretation of the email. The old “walk a mile in my Prada\’s” thing.

While I didn\’t personally know the woman who sent the email, I did know that she is a confirmed bachelorette. I also knew why. Love has scorched her heart more times than my Sunday dinners; and trust me, that\’s in triple digits according to my family.

And speaking of triple digits, the second woman is married to hubby number three. The first two died and some say under suspicious circumstances. Before you ask, no…they didn\’t eat at my house on Sundays.

So there you have it. You say TomaTOE…and I say TomaTAH…but in the end, it\’s still a tomato, and it\’s still red. You have your opinion; I have mine, so let\’s give each other a break from the judgment calls, shall we? Like Doris Day always sang, kay-sorry…kay-sorry…what will be, will be.

Whattttttt? Hey, you say TomaTOE, I sing it my way…\’k?