Comparison, it has been said, is the thief of joy.
And most of us are guilty of robbing ourselves in some way.
I learned about comparing myself to others from none other than the Redhead Prime herself, Granny.
Granny had that one sister she didn’t get along with, the one that as children, would goody-goody Granny until the old gal was provoked to take a whack at her.
The sister was not exactly the warmest, fuzziest person in the world but for some reason, anytime something good happened to her, it sent my grandmother into a tizzie.
For example, the sister got a new couch once and the fact infuriated Granny to no end.
“Why do you care?” my grandfather wanted to know.