Resentment

When I was little, my Grandmother - who lived two doors away - used to call the house and say "Guess who's heah?" This was a cue for us to get washed and brushed up in a hurry so we could meet whatever relatives were visiting. Trust me, you do not want to be the curly-headed child whose mother has to brush her hair in a hurry. Then at Gram's there was the gauntlet of relatives to run while attempting to get my cheeks pinched as little as possible. But there was compensation for all this discomfort. Gram always served tea and a "nice cake." She would always give me a big piece because I was skinny and she wanted the relatives to know it wasn't due to lack of effort on her part.

I share this little slice of Americana from the last century because the U.S. Army could learn a thing or two from my grandmother. If I have to put on a pretty dress and brush my hair, and then go to a banquet where I'm expected to smile and politely converse with people I barely know, the least the Army could do is give me cake for dessert.