Friday, April 04, 2014
Having unwisely given the impression in my previous post (before correcting it) that Grandson was being much more bouncy than he actually was, I got one perfectly nice comment from a bloggy friend who obviously felt slightly worried for the lady behind him and one rather less nice one from an anonymous commenter - which I deleted because it's my blog and I can.
I tend to feel that people who read my blog know me and can therefore read between the lines, but of course this isn't really the case. Or - it is to some extent. I've met quite a few bloggy friends now and they've all been lovely, just like their blogs. But blogs, though they may be more or less true, are not the whole truth. We are actually quite shy people. I often feel that we may have brought up our children to be more repressed and to think of other people more than is compatible with getting on in the real world. We certainly never allowed them to make a noise in public places and annoy others - not that they ever showed much tendency to do so. They are all kind and considerate. They, and we, probably get walked over a bit.
Pictures tell only half the story. This is Grandson yesterday and yes, we are very blessed to have him. But what you can't tell from the picture is that he has a terrible cold and cough, is having to use his puffer because of wheezing and that his body is covered in itchy eczema. He currently has to wear a special tight suit covering his entire body under his pyjamas at night so that the cream with which he's slathered stays on and he can't scratch and make himself bleed.
I read blogs because I'm interested in the writers' lives and feel warmly towards them. If I weren't and I didn't, I wouldn't read their blogs. It's odd, though salutary (and I suppose obvious) to to realise that there are those out there with different feelings.
Or maybe he or she was just having a bad day.