Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk

I can't speak hick-from-the-sticks anymore.

That is, I am perfectly capable, having done a bit of growing up in the rural midwest, spending plenty of time with grandparents, great aunts and uncles, and so on.

But if I have a momentary lapse and say something about "when Hector was a pup," my city-kid offspring says, "That's a terrible name for a dog. Wait, was Hector your dog?" And totally misses the point.

It's the same lack of understanding as when I say "No use crying over spilled milk." I try to avoid expressions like that because nobody under 25 or so has ever heard them. At least the spilled milk is easy to translate into New Milleniumese: Get over it.

It's Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk Day. How great is that? It's awesome! We need an actual day to remind us that, well, milk spills. Stuff happens. To everybody. But as Les Brown says, when things go wrong, don't go with them! It's a day to apply the Get Over It perspective.

Thou shalt not whine. At this point, it's not about whether it's half full or half empty. It's not time for an apathetic "whatever." It's time to wipe it up, get over it and move on, already!

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