P IS FOR POUT

Heh. The above photograph shows a pouter. Look at her. Instead of posing nicely for the picture with the two smiling girls, she has gone off by herself to sulk. Obviously, the photographer found it highly amusing, because he made sure he included the pouter when he took the photo.

Okay, I am the pouter in that picture. We were on a family vacation at Niagara Falls. I had been mildly scolded for something, and I stalked off to pout. It is plain to see my sisters did not pay a bit of attention to my little tantrum (my infant sister was left with an aunt at home). And you can bet Daddy thought it was comical, or he would not have photographed me in the shot. Of course my family thinks it is a hoot when they look at it. They stilllll talk about that picture and laugh.

Some personality traits remain with us for all of our lives, it would seem. Yeppirs, I am a pouter. I do it whenever I am unhappy with something that has transpired. I can actually feel my lips poofing out. And I retreat. I go off by myself to lick my wounds. Maybe I am spoiled. Who am I kidding? I AM spoiled. From the time I was a little girl to now, I have always had someone who spoiled me rotten. Perhaps that set the stage for my quiet little tantrums. Yet, I am the only one in my family who does it, which leads me to believe it is more of a personality trait.

When my ideas are shot down, when I feel I have been unfairly criticized, or when I have been hurt, I sulk. Off I go to find an alone place. Depending upon my perceived severity of the situation, I might pout for a very short time or a long time. I do not scream or throw things. I silently sulk. Does no one any good to talk to me during these episodes, because I will not answer except to possibly give a one-word response.

The way I look at it is that we all have our own ways to address those things that bother us. Mine just happens to be via pouting. It is a time for me to analyze what has upset or irritated me. To review the situation from every angle. And then I can make a rational decision as to whether or not I need to get over it or further act upon it in a different manner. I can think of far worse behaviors I could have. And I am very thankful I do not have those kinds. My pouting harms no one. In fact, it is far preferable than what I have seen many others do. Besides, I look kind of cute when I pout. ::grin::

Oh, by the way, the picture below shows just how quickly I recovered from my silent tirade. I am the one perched on Daddy's lap. (Get a grip on that narrow railing...egads!) My maternal grandmother is in the picture, too.


"O sleep, we are beholden to thee, sleep;
Thou bearest angels to us in the night,
Saints out of heaven with palms.
Seen by thy light
Sorrow is some old tale that goeth not deep;
Love is a pouting child." - Sleep by Jean Ingelow