The warm Southern sun cast dappled shadows across the grand porch of a stately home, where two elegant women sat sipping sweet tea. The first lady, dressed in soft pastels and pearls, gazed proudly at her sprawling estate. “My husband built this beautiful home when our first child was born,” she said, her voice filled with satisfaction.
Her companion, equally refined but with a playful glint in her eye, simply smiled and replied, “Well, isn’t that nice?”
The first woman continued, “And when our second arrived, he bought me that Cadillac parked out front.” Again, her friend responded with the same polite phrase. Undeterred, the first lady extended her wrist, showing off a sparkling diamond bracelet. “This was his gift when our third was born.”
Once more, the second woman nodded and said, “Well, isn’t that nice?”
Curious, the first lady finally asked, “And what did your husband give you when you had your first child?”
With a mischievous grin, her friend leaned in. “He sent me to charm school.”
“Charm school?” the first woman echoed.
“Indeed,” the second lady replied, taking a sip of tea. “I learned to say, ‘Well, isn’t that nice?’ instead of ‘Who cares?'”
Laughter filled the air as the two friends enjoyed the humor in the moment. Later, as the sun dipped lower, their conversation turned more personal. One woman sighed, “My son’s marriage is a disaster. His wife does nothing—just stays in bed while he serves her breakfast every morning.”
Her friend shook her head sympathetically. “That’s awful.”
“But my daughter,” the first woman brightened, “married an angel. He pampers her, brings her breakfast in bed, and insists she relaxes all day.”
Her companion paused, blinked, and then smiled knowingly. “Well, isn’t that nice?”
Sometimes, it’s not just the words—it’s how you say them.
