Tip of the Week

Sometimes, when my mom fits a piece into the jigsaw puzzle we are working on, she taps the table gently and says “Accolades.” She needs an “atta girl” and doesn’t mind asking for it.

I recently passed one of those signs that clocks your speed. You know the ones; they usually flash something like “37,” “37,” “37” when you’re driving in a 35-mph zone. But this one was different. Beneath the speed limit, a glowing flash of “Good Job” was followed by a happy face. I was going 35 in a 35 zone. That silly little affirmation tickled me and made me feel good all the way home.