Ample (adj): enough or more than enough; plentiful.

I refer to it as the “Nancy regret.”

She was a girl I knew who just never could quite allow herself to be grateful, appreciative or satisfied with anything.

If we got a sandwich at a restaurant and everybody was talking about how ample the serving was and delicious the flavor, Nancy would point out to one and all that it was “pretty good but could have been improved by some brown mustard.”

We once took a field trip to an amusement park. The whole class was abuzz about the exciting rides, sweet-tasting corn dogs and fluffy cotton candy. Nancy inserted that the public restrooms didn’t have toilet paper in all the stalls.

When we graduated from high school, we donned our caps and gowns, and with tears in our eyes, bid each other a fond farewell, only to have Nancy close with the lament that she believed the choice of pink for the female gowns was “a bit startling.”

I never forgot Nancy. I’ve often wondered what her wedding night was like, as her poor, helpless husband attempted to pull off the best miracle of romance he could with the accommodations provided, and then, lying there in the dark afterglow, to receive Nancy’s critique.

Sometimes things are ample.

And any additional comment beyond the appreciation of having what you need at the time you need it is not only bratty, but as I pointed out … will turn you into a real Nancy.

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