Last night DH tried out a new brain teaser on Middle Son.
“Five frogs are sitting on a log. Four decide to hop off. How many are left?”
Middle struggled for a moment before choosing the obvious answer–which, of course, was wrong.
I, of course, almost fell off my bar stool because I’m a bit immature that way and thought DH was funny. Likely why I decided to marry him.
My writing brain, however, locked in on one word and became a bit perturbed.
I’ve been in a total of five critique groups over the years and one of the most passive forms of writing I’ve ever seen is the use of the word decided.
He decided to order Chinese food.
This is generally followed by some action or dialogue with Chinese food miraculously appearing on the doorstep five pages later.
How many frogs are left?
Deciding to jump off the log and actually doing it are two completely different things. Deciding to order take out and actually dialing the phone are two completely different things.
Deciding to get married and actually tying the knot? Yeah, two different things. Thank God I got off my wishy-washy tushy and did something about my decision or my four kids would have been
bas born out-of-wedlock.
Is there ever a time to decide rather than actively do?