Recently Larry and I have spent a good amount of time talking and joking about compassion, and maybe my lack of it. I wonder how much compassion a person should have. Is there some kind of a “compassionometer” that we need to be living up to? I understand that I tend not to show compassion as much as many people, especially if compassion is measured by flowery verbage. Don’t get me wrong. I can tear up with the best of them when I hear a story that tugs at my heartstrings. (In fact, for about 35 years my eyes were moist more than they were dry.) I fear I have taught my daughters through my example in this area of non-compassion. I know some of my sons-in-law complain about their respective wives not showing a high level of compassion. Just this week Larry stubbed his toe before he went to work. He hobbled to the sofa, sat there while vocally reaffirming how much pain he was in. Finally he motioned to me with his hand and said, “Come here and give me a hug. I need some compassion.” You guessed it, I just stood there watching him try and figure out what to do with the pain. In my head I was probably thinking something like this: “Well, get your shoes and socks on. You’ll be late for work. And besides, I need to start my WiiFit exercising.” Or maybe, "If you had had your shoes and socks on this wouldn't have happened." In other words, buck up and deal with it. I hope those who know me well do see the compassion and sympathy that I show. And just for the record, Larry tells me I am very compassionate. But we have sure had some good laughs over this topic.