Lacking the basic social skills of a sea slug, I have a hard time dealing with conflict. That wasn’t a problem before the heavens opened up and it started raining idiots. I’m at a disadvantage, because my mother taught me manners with an alder switch to the backside.

Case in point: my friend’s ex couldn’t grasp the concept of “go away.” When he showed up on my doorstep Friday looking for her, my first impulse was “HIDE!” Unfortunately, I’m not built for speed, so after scurrying around the living room like a turtle on crack, I discovered that my friend had nabbed the best hiding spot, leaving me high and dry. As soon as I opened the door, politeness kicked in like a laxative.

Later that day I served him with no trespassing orders, so I managed to redeem myself. Not surprisingly, even after he was banned from the property, he asked if he could see her. Proof once again that inbreeding is a bad idea.

Why the sudden tsunami of people who need an hour and a half to watch 60 Minutes? Could it be that I’m getting intolerant and judgey in my old age? It’s not that I’m opinionated, I’m just usually right. People should be queuing up to agree with me.

At the same time, I’m humbled by people like the father I met this weekend at a book fair. His seventeen year-old daughter published her first book at 13, and now has several very successful children’s books to her name. This grizzled biker-looking dude was learning to oil paint with his little girl. You can find her latest book, Hunted Home at Amazon.

As we were sitting out on the pavilion steps chatting, he and my daughter got into a philosophical discussion of relationships. To save my life, the only intelligent thing I could think to say was, “Are my panties showing?” Perhaps I should rethink that judgey attitude.