My husband used to lecture our daughters and say, "Words mean something." It's true.

And now that I make my "living" with words, how they're used is even more precious to me.

I may have to change banks. The one I use has a sign (in most, if not all, the branches I've visited). It's prominently displayed at the front of the teller line.

"PLEASE HAVE YOUR TRANSACTION(S) COMPLETED BEFORE YOU REACH THE WINDOW"

Ummm... how is that possible when I need the teller's service to complete the transaction???

Now, I know they mean have the paperwork (deposit and/or withdrawal slips) completed by the time you reach a teller. But that's not what they say.

Irregardless, of intent, they shou-what? Oh, right. Irregardless is not a real word. I meant 'Regardless.'

There's a common quote from Mark Twain that writer's like to share: "The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter—it’s the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning."

I sometimes make the quote my own and change it to butter and butterfly. But I always give Mark Twain credit.

What it comes back to is the same thing my girls rolled their eyes at for years: Words mean something. Or they ought to.

Except when it's an orange.

My daughter and grand-daughter were visiting last week. And went to visit my parents, Evelyn's great-grandparents. My dad took her out to look at his garden and pointed out his different fruit trees. There was a peach and a nectarine. And he showed her the orange tree.

"No, those are apples," she said.
"No, oranges," Grampa said.

"Apples." Have I mentioned that the women in our family are known for their stubbornness?

Grampa shrugged and said, "Okay, they're apples."

Evelyn turned, saw the second orange tree and pointed at it. "Oh look, more oranges."

We figure she just wanted to be right. Once Grampa agreed that she was right, then she was free to change her mind.

Isn't it just like a child? Or a woman? Actually, isn't it human nature? We hate to admit we're wrong. We cling to our delusions. We insist the oranges are apples.

Hmmm... I'm hungry for fruit salad. Or a fruit cup. Or even canned fruit cocktail. Dibs on the one cherry.

Well, two out of three isn't bad. Most days I get at least two of those three done. Not always the same two though. So maybe that's okay. It means they get done semi-regularly. And even though regularly would be best, it's better than once in a while.

Why is it so hard to do the things that we know are good for us? We feel better when we exercise. Our teeth last longer when we floss. We get sick less often when we take vitamins.

Is it laziness? Probably. At least for me.

I'm struggling right now with a few things. Things I know I need to do. And I'll feel better when I do them. But I can't seem to get off my metaphorical couch.

Okay, just writing it down makes it more urgent. And if someone were to actually write me and ask if I made the appointment, walked to the end of the block, or took my Woman's formula it might help.

Or not. We'll see.