Recently my daughter labeled her father and me as curmudgeonly. She said it lovingly but I was instantly offended, even after she explained her reasoning. She claimed we were set in our ways and did not deal well with change or having anything out of place in our home. Nor did we like being away from said home. I calmed down. Sort of.

On occasion I revisit that conversation and the labeling of curmudgeon still bugs me. So I looked it up. Merriam-Webster describes a curmudgeon as one who is crusty, ill tempered, miserly and usually an old man. Synonyms include bellyacher, complainer, crab, crank, grouch, fusser, griper, grumbler, grump, sourpuss and whiner. Okay, now I’m offended. So let’s review.

Since turning fifty a few years ago (how many is not relevant to this story) I have held eight different jobs. Economy played a factor in this and apparently I get bored easily. Crusty? I don’t think so.

I have seven grandchildren with two more soon to arrive. The first seven were born in Texas, Tennessee, South Carolina and Alabama. The last two will soon be on their way to the U.S. from Columbia. I missed only one of those seven births for reasons beyond my control. Most of our vacations in the last eighteen years have involved travel at least once each month to visit our adult children and grandchildren, none who live in Tennessee. Fusser? I don’t think so.

Thirteen years ago, after thirty-four years of marriage, we built our dream home. We waited until the kids moved out and started their families, then built a bigger house to accommodate all of us comfortably when they visit. We like to spoil family members throughout the year and at Christmas Cici and Papaw Claus visit during the night after the children are asleep to leave unwrapped surprises under the tree. There are always wrapped presents as well. We donate to numerous charities, tithe to our church and support missions. Miserly? I don’t think so.

During those thirteen years since the move we left our home church of thirty plus years, survived open-heart surgery and neck surgery (my hubby), two total hip replacements (me) and suffered through the deaths of beloved family members. I have been a traditional southern cook since the age of nine yet I relearned how to cook to accommodate heart disease; took up quilting, gardening, canning and painting. I even taught my daughter to quilt and make apple butter. Whiner? I don’t think so.

So what if we don’t really like leaving the home we have created to go on vacation for more than a few days. We are surrounded by beautiful landscaping, enjoy visits from birds and other wildlife, work in a garden that feeds us and many family members and friends, and have great views outside and comfort inside. It is difficult to find anywhere to go on vacation that rivals that.

I can't speak for the old man described by Webster, but if that makes us set in our ways and curmudgeons then so be it. But I much prefer the title of Queen.