Mark Twain said, “I could live for two months on a good compliment.” So could I. Thankfully, as I grew up, I no longer required compliments for validation or proof of good work. But, man, I sure do enjoy the hell out of them. A really good, specific compliment? Better than chocolate. If it’s in writing? Better than bacon. In writing and in PUBLIC? Better than chocolate covered bacon. I could live on them.
I could live on them as long as we throw in some sourdough toast. With butter.