Counter opinion? Mouthing words you don't mean is nothing to be proud of...

Don't throw your parents under the bus for raising a little lyin hypocrit.  Why say, "I'm sorry" if you don't really mean it because you're counting faults and measuring yourself as victor?

*Real writing is honest writing; let the chips fall where they may, even if they temporarily crush ya.  Real people in America hate such cold white "polite" untruths:  "I'm sorry (but your dog barked at mine!) I'm sorry (you bumped into me!) I'm sorry (your foot was not inconveniencing me but I had to YANK my jacket out, instead of asking you to just lift your foot, and enforce my. territorial. boundaries!!) I'm sorry (you messed up my drink order, wench!)  I'm sorry (you didn't have my car ready on time!!) I'm sorry (you misread and misinterpreted my email communication and F'd it up!!!)

Frank, just be honest, not passive-aggressive.  Stop adding up the ... "injustices" in your head.  Don't apologize for being a dick if that's what you really are... And don't blame your late parents for making you into the polite little monster you come across as here... Hth.

I’m sorry.  I’m repeatedly, reflexively and ridiculously sorry.I was sorry that you bumped into me, even though I was standing still, to the side of most foot traffic, and wasn’t lost in the screen of my smartphone, as you were. But the awkwardness of our collision demanded acknowledgment, and into the void of your silence I lobbed a “sorry.” It’s just what came out. It’s what always comes out.I was sorry that you misunderstood my email, which was carefully written and, I’m confident, clear. But you did something other than what we’d agreed upon, and in pointing that out I apologized for the confusion between us, even though I didn’t create it.I was sorry that you brought me a beverage different from the one I ordered. I was sorry that I came to fetch my car before you finished the inspection, which was supposed to be done an hour earlier. I was sorry that our dogs snarled at each other, even though yours started it.The world splits into two camps: those who cannot bear to apologize and those who cannot stop apologizing, in a mutation of courtesy that looks a lot like pathology. I live among the mutants.Is this my mother’s fault? She was a stickler for manners. My father’s? He has always loathed confrontation. Or is it just some random, relatively meaningless tic? Whatever the case, I’m stuck with it now, and if you find it grating — as one of my editors recently told me he did — well, I’m sorry about that.The other day, I was on a cross-country flight, and the jacket in my lap slipped to the floor. I tried to pick it up, but it was stuck, so I pulled harder and harder, and realized only as I liberated it that the passenger beside me had a foot planted on it, because one of his long, thick legs had strayed far into the space for mine.You can guess what I said. He just harrumphed.For a few seconds, I thought, “I wish I could be like that — so totally untroubled, so blissfully unconcerned.”Then again, no. His lot is the much sorrier one.

Up here, we call that "Minnesota Nice."  It's not a compliment.  It means you're a fake, and while you may fool people at first, it hurts them more later to learn what you really think of them, instead of just being honest at the time, even if it makes YOU look small and petty.  Don't be a hypocrit.  Don't pretend to be a kind person, if you're just playin'...  That hurts people, when the real you comes out, and people realize who you were all along, and you were counting your injustices in your head like that all along...