I'm entitled to be grumpy.

I can be unpleasant. I worry about situations I cannot control and a lack of proper sleep and/or nutrition can take a toll on a girl. I'd even go as far to say that some mornings I behave like a mama bear who was dragged out of her cave mid-hibernation. I'm entitled to be grumpy. Right?


Well, try living with my husband who rarely exhibits grumpy unless he happens to fall into the right combination of hungry and exhausted (then he behaves like a bear also). As he was preparing for this morning's fishing trip, I peered at him through bleary eyes and smiled as he happily shows me his t-shirt that reads,"I'm entitled to be grumpy." He was a walking contradiction with his big grin as he trotted out the door. I knew he wasn't making a statement about his temperament rather his memories. Paul is a t-shirt collector and ceremoniously retires his t-shirts to family members and makes them solemnly vow to return them if they have no need for them anymore. To Paul, each t-shirt is a wearable memory and today he's wearing the memory of his Grandpa Partee, who was the original owner of the t-shirt. I'm glad that I crawled out of bed and had a few moments with him before he left this morning. Paul possesses some magical endearing charm that inspires me in the most mundane moments and changes my grumpy heart. 

The t-shirt that Paul inherited from his Grandpa Partee.

Enjoying a cup of coffee and organizing my thoughts, I realized that I'm entitled to be grumpy; however, I'm also entitled to accept life, accept each situation, accept what people say or do and handle it. To complain is to not accept what is and to look at things in a negative light. I'm not a victim of life. I was given life! When I have reason to be grumpy or complain, I can accept it or change it. Anything else is pure insanity.


I'm entitled to be happy too.