If I think back to the child I used to be… and if I am really honest… she is not that far gone.
As a child I liked to laugh, liked to play, liked to learn, liked to create, I liked to entertain others with humour or wit or performance… I liked to hug and be hugged, I liked to cuddle. I wasn’t perfect then (my parents might try to tell you I was – sometimes I wish that was true…) and I am still not perfect – far from it.
All of those things are still true except now I have to pay a mortgage or fill out an(other) insurance form or take a mountain of meds, or sign permission slips.
But the child in me is the part most charmed by my sons. They are fun to play with and they are a total pain when they fight with us – then we have to put on grown-up pants and get serious! And so this morning we had to ground our eldest to his room and (being just like every generation in his family tree) he is stubborn.
Silence was the weapon he eventually resorted to.
But here was his method of communicating (this slipped out under his door for any passer by I guess…)
I remember when I was stuck in my room to clean up – I think I was 3. My Dad was going out to work but I wanted his attention. So I remember making a ringing noise (I had a small play phone in my room) and calling down the stairs to him that the phone was ringing. He had his briefcase and was tying his shoes. He asked me to please answer it – thinking that he had outsmarted me… I ran over to the phone and shouted “Hello? … Just a second… DADDY? It’s for YOU!”
I ran to the top of the stairs just in time to see him slouch over his tied shoes and shake his head, slowly putting down his briefcase and up he came.
There are reasons that these things happen. Maybe his hug really was magic, or maybe his new timing helped him miss a traffic accident, or maybe – just maybe – the fact that he and his 37-year-old daughter still smile at that memory is reason enough to come take the call.
Be well.
Jen
… oh and for the record, I did need him, so I did knock on the foot of his bed.
