There once were twin boys, age six, that had developed extreme personalities. One was a pessimist and the other a total optimist. Concerned, their parents took them to a psychiatrist.
First, the psychiatrist treated the pessimist. Trying to brighten his outlook, the psychiatrist took him to a room filled with toys. But instead of yelping with delight, the little boy burst into tears. “What’s the matter?” the psychiatrist asked. “Don’t you want to play with any of the toys?”
“Yes,” the little boy bawled, “but if I did I’d only break them.”
Next, the psychiatrist treated the optimist. Trying to dampen his out look, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with horse manure. But instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, the optimist climbed to the top of the pile, and began gleefully digging out scoop after scoop with his bare hands.
“What are you doing?” the baffled psychiatrist asked.
The little boy replied, “With all this manure, there must be a pony in here somewhere!”
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