Misery

A few days ago when my four year old granddaughter was being unusually cranky, I answered that condition with some lighthearted silliness.  This infuriated her and she screamed, “You’re just making jokes to try and cheer me up!”  My usual response to any accusation is to deny it (e.g., “No, the Tickle Bug Monster is real”) and attack the accuser (e.g., “and you are a spoiled brat”). This time I just folded and apologized, “Yes, I was trying to be funny and cheer you up.” I have come to realize that people sometimes want to be miserable.  That is their happiness.

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