I’d like to take a few minutes to thank some of my friends for not sharing. I know how hard it is not to share. After all, when I was a little boy, my mother drummed into me the importance of sharing. And soon after that, she scolded me for coughing on my sister and trying to share my germs.
I learned, of course, that sharing has its limits. There are some things in life you just shouldn’t share, such as underwear, toothbrushes, and girlfriends. It’s also not a good idea, however tempting it might be, to share a spouse. I have no idea how women in some parts of the world –- not just Utah –- manage to share a husband. I have enough trouble sharing my wife with the Food Network.
Yes, sharing isn’t always a good thing. That’s why I want to thank some of my friends:
Thank you for not sharing the photos of your vacation in Hawaii last winter. I really didn’t want to see you relaxing on the beach with a margarita, not when I was stuck in Winnipeg, getting treatment for frostbite on my butt.
Thank you for not sharing all 284 photos you took at your daughter’s graduation from nursery school. The three photos you shared were just perfect, showing what an emotional occasion it was, with several graduates crying as they came to terms with the fact that, after a whole year of school, they weren’t getting the piece of cake with the flower on it.
Thank you for not sharing your home movies with me. I’m sure it was hard to keep them to yourself, especially since you’ve taken your video camera everywhere and captured so many proud moments, such as your 8-year-old daughter’s first No. 1 finish in a school race and your 3-year-old son’s first No. 1 finish in the bathroom.
Thank you for not sharing every detail of your life through Twitter. I’m really grateful you didn’t feel the urge to send out a tweet that said, “It’s that time of the month again. Yes, it’s time for me to take another bath.”
Thank you for not sharing what’s on your mind every single time you log into Facebook. It’s very kind of you to wait until you have a really deep thought such as, “If the people of Madagascar were really serious about going green, they’d change their country’s name to Madahybridcar.”
Thank you for not sharing your family’s recipe for squirrel stew. I tried squirrel once and, to be completely frank with you, I’ve had my share of rodents for a lifetime.
Thank you for not sharing your true opinion of my clothes. I know I’m out of style: my shorts are too short, my pants are too narrow, and my underwear is too concealed.
Thank you for not sharing your copy of Bill O’Reilly’s book “Kids Are Americans Too.” Having three children caught between two cultures, I’m more inclined to read Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s book “Kids Are Too American.”
Thank you for not sharing any gossip about our other friends. You and I are alike: We don’t like to gossip. But do you know who does? I’ll tell you later.