My sweetheart likes hot food. Take that anyway you want—he likes 200 degree soup and jalapenos. Most restaurants serve their soup just nice and warm, according to Daniel’s temp gauge, so he asks them to get it “really hot.” Sometimes he has to send it back for “really, really hot.” If it is a place we frequent, the waiter tells the cook, “It’s the 212 guy. You know, boil the soup and blister his tongue.”
When trying to describe things, anyone is bound to be misunderstood if he uses terms like “hot” or “a little warmer, please.” The English language is pervaded by vagaries and words easy to be mistaken.
Do you want a lot of mashed potatoes? Is that a dollop or half a cup? Just a little pie might be 1/6 of an 8-inch plate or 1/8 of a 9-inch dish, depending upon the server.
We hate to sound so picky and exacting as to be labeled a trouble-maker. “That’s about right,” we condescend to the person trying to meet our needs and preferences, leaving her wondering if it should have been a little more or a little less.
“Let your yea be yea,” says the Scripture. I suppose we should ask for a 2 1/2-inch slice of pie, 180-degree soup and a bill that’s less than twenty dollars, thank you. Anything else can be misconstrued.
For me, life is better if I just allow for misunderstandings and give as much grace as I would like to be given.
I will save nit-pickiness for when the subject is truly critical, like where to put my name on the book cover.
By-the-way, I am writing this as we leave our local internet service for a few days so your comments will show up when we return. Does that sound about right?