In which a critic disappears under mysterious circumstances…

You know that restaurant critic?  The one who writes the harshest reviews? You do, I know you do.  He wrote things like, “The olivette potatoes were undercooked and pretentious, the lima beans edible but not sublime as advertised, and the tournedos of beef stingy, tough and dry.  I wouldn’t bring my worst enemy to this restaurant.”

That guy.  Now do you remember?

Well, that guy, finding it hard to make ends meet bashing restaurants, picked up a sideline job as my inner voice.  For years, he sneered and shook his bony finger at me, accusing me of all sorts of dastardly deeds, insisting I could do better, insinuating I might be a little slow and most assuredly was unattractive.

I kind of got used to that guy.  We werern’t friends and  I can’t say I trusted him, but I accepted him as a valid member of my mental household.  I listened to his opinions and tried not to resent his critical nature.  This is how we improve, I told myself.  We may not like it, but we need it.  That’s what I thought.

Then, as mysteriously as he had appeared that guy disappeared.  He was there and then he wasn’t.  Did he die?  Did he find a better head to live in?  Where did he go? I don’t recall the exact day he left.  It was more of a gradual awareness that the old coot’s voice had gone silent and that there seemed to be more room for new thoughts.

Not long after, MeeMaw moved in.  MeeMaw is the polar opposite of her predecessor.  When I get lost, which is often,  MeeMaw tells me that the journey counts more than the destination. When I mess up she tells me everyone does-try again.  When I don’t know how to do something, she says there’s more than one way to do everything – think of a way.  She calls me “sweetie” and “honey”, and blesses my heart on a regular basis.  She lets me sleep in.  We make cookies and go on long walks.  We stop to smell the flowers.  We make plans and prioritize and treasure the little things.  We count our blessings. I’m not sure where MeeMaw came from, but I hope she never leaves.

If that guy, that restaurant critic, what’s-his-name, if he lives in your head, do yourself a favor; send him packing and get yourself a MeeMaw.  Life’s too short to entertain critics.

Chicken out


Get yourself a MeeMaw! borrowed from

  16 comments for “In which a critic disappears under mysterious circumstances…

  1. jenny_o
    December 5, 2014 at 5:35 pm

    Where did you find your Meemaw? Ebay? Kijiji? Etsy? Yoga class?? For pete’s sake, tell us where!!!


    • December 5, 2014 at 6:02 pm

      Sky Mall!!


      • jenny_o
        December 5, 2014 at 6:50 pm

        Oh no! We don’t have one of those here!


      • December 5, 2014 at 11:39 pm

        They are nowhere but on airplanes–you know those magazines that are always in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of you? That’s the Sky Mall. I don’t know why Sky Mall cracks me up so much.. Or you could ask Santa. Or maybe L.L. Bean has some MeeMaws.


  2. December 5, 2014 at 6:10 pm

    Mee-Maw is the best. Every writer needs one. Maybe you could rent her out?


    • December 6, 2014 at 12:01 am

      Hi Jayne,
      MeeMaw says she has an APP and you can download it when you need a little nurturing. But you won’t find it at the Apple Store. There is no “i” in MEmaw. bwah ahaha. I crack myself up. MeeMaw says I crack her up, too.


  3. Doug in Oakland
    December 5, 2014 at 11:25 pm

    I heard that MeeMaw brought out a plate of chocolate chip cookies that smelled so good that Critic Guy just snagged a handful and locked himself in his room…


    • December 5, 2014 at 11:43 pm

      You heard right, Doug, and then she may or may not have bricked in the doorway. bwah ha haha. That MeeMaw.


  4. jenny_o
    December 6, 2014 at 6:27 pm

    No I did not know that’s what Sky Mall is. Reading blogs is so educational!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. December 7, 2014 at 7:32 am

    I recognize MeeMaw and love her dearly. Don’t look in her basket like I did though. She has no front teeth and was unable to eat the restaurant critic’s head. Everything else she managed with molars.


    • December 9, 2014 at 12:40 am

      One must braise the head slowly with tenderizing ingredients such as a bit of wine and a jar of tomatoes. Quite tasty. Piquant with a sweet finish.


  6. thesmittenimage
    December 8, 2014 at 11:49 pm

    Awww everyone needs a Mee-Maw. That critic is such a pain.


  7. Pat
    December 11, 2014 at 7:03 am

    Great post and very funny! Oh yeah, Sky Mall. full of the greatest gadgets that you would NEVER need or use.

    One therapist for each of my inner voices, seem to work pretty well.


    • December 11, 2014 at 11:14 am

      Pat! Hmmm the old 1:1 ratio….that could work. Or it could be twice as many voices to ignore:-)


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