I've been told by my family that I'm a negative person. I vehemently deny that charge. Just because my initial response to most any request from a family member is "No" does not necessarily make me a negative person. It's merely a self-defense mechanism that buys me a little time to think about it longer and do some research. I've learned the hard way, an affirmative answer too soon, can get you into a lot of trouble. I've also learned that "I'll think about it" translates as "Yes" in the minds of my children so don't tell me that should have been my response.

In the first place, there are a lot of details that are likely to be omitted in any given request. For instance, if your eight year old daughter asks, "May I spend the night with Tricia?". That may seem innocent enough, but don't count on it. Unless you specifically ask the right question, you're not going to learn that Tricia's parents know nothing of the fact, Tricia has planned a sleep over or she has obtained some R-rated horror movies and no one monitors her T.V. viewing.

If your husband asks, "What do you think about us buying a little land for investment purposes?", it's going to be a while before all the details filter through. He isn't going to mention right away that this land is forty miles away and next door to the chicken raising capital of the world, or that most of the neighbors live in trailers and the nearest thing to a mall is a dilapidated one room grocery store. He's not likely to tell you he's thinking of retiring and buying a herd of cattle or he'll want to spend every weekend, vacation and whatever other hours he can find, there. He'll never even hint that what he really visualizes is building a house and uprooting you and the kids and moving you there forever. It's sort of like the bills that pass through Congress. The initial proposal may be just dandy, but there's a lot of pork barrel that goes with it.

By the time our son, Don, had reached college age, he had mastered the art of omitting details. My husband and I agreed there were a number of legitimate reasons to say "no" when he first brought up the subject of a car. Number one was our finances. We had three kids in college and a young one coming on. Number two: his sister, less than two years older, had no car, nor did his twin sister. If we couldn't afford one, we surely couldn't afford three. Don wasn't ready to concede defeat. He just backed up and rephrased the question. This time, he made it sound like it was a requirement for the class he was taking, sort of like, "my teacher says I have to buy this book."

"You know how you've been wanting me to get my grade point up," he began. You could hear the excitement building in his voice. "I've enrolled in this five hour Auto Mechanics course and I ought to be able to get an easy A. That's sure going to help my grade point but.... There's just one thing...."

"O.K., Son, give me the bad news."

"Well, we're going to be rebuilding an engine and we have to provide our own engine. But guess what! I've been looking around and you won't believe what I found. This is too good to be true."

"O.K., Son, what's the good news?"

"I've found a car and I've got them down to just $700. It's a `69 Firdbird. That's a classic, you know, and it's in great shape. It just needs a little work on the motor. The girl that had it before hardly drove it at all." (There was a good reason for that we found out later. It didn't run at all.) "It's too late to get into another class and I really have to have a motor."

My husband and I talked it over. Our suspicions were aroused but four hundred miles was too far away for us to investigate personally and in the end we mailed the check. It wasn't the last check we mailed. I seem to recall another $300 shortly after that for something that was initially overlooked. It was a while before we got the rest of the story.

One of the minor details, he didn't mention was that this car was residing in a junk yard where it had, no doubt, been for some time. Nor did I learn till much time had passed, he and his friends were almost arrested for daring to bring the thing on the highway. It didn't come out for many months that he got no title when he bought it and it would take an act of Congress to get one.

Don was strangely silent about the whole thing after he received the checks. As to our inquiries of "How's the car coming?," he'd mutter a hasty "Oh, it's coming" and quickly change the subject. It was the end of the semester before we learned that during one of the early class sessions, he had spilled some substance on the floor that dissolved the tile and as a result he had come into immediate disfavor with his instructor. That "easy A" ended up being an uneasy F. The stress of having to live with all these undisclosed details brought him down as well as his grade point average. So far down, he thought of giving up college all together when he was forced to wait out a semester because of poor grades.

As for the car, it remained motionless. Don was forced to drag it from one spot to another when he was told to remove it from the campus. He talked a friend into allowing him to pull it into his yard where it stayed for a year or so. Finally, he and another friend rented a hook and dragged the albatross home. It occupied a spot in our driveway for what seemed like an eternity, while even more money went into buying a used engine, hoisting out the old one, and replacing it. They dragged the old engine to the side of our house where eventually my husband dug a deep hole, pushed it in and buried it. It didn't even get a tombstone. Some archeologist, years from now, will be scratching his head and wondering how that thing came to be there.

The replaced engine worked a few days, the best I remember. At least, I think it cranked once. My son traded his classic to a friend for a newer but even more worthless model that ran about a month. Pain has caused me to block out the remainder of what happened. Suffice it to say, it wasn't something I would want to remember.

So before you call me negative, walk a few miles in my shoes. There is a very good reason my first response is "no". Given enough time, I may change my mind, but don't count on it.