grateful for goofiness
At his happiest, my middle son gets goofy. He always has.
As an infant, we would tickle him over and over to hear his infectious giggle. As he grew, he’d entertain us with dramatic antics, and at night you can still hear him laughing with his brother until they collapse into slumber. He’s eleven.
I have to admit, the controlling mom in me sometimes worries if he goes to far. He loves to make other kids laugh, but is he too distracting in the classroom? Does he really understand when to turn it on and when (and how) to simmer down? At home, those boundaries blur. Our meals sometimes disentegrate into ROFL laugh fests–sometimes that’s a welcome release, and sometimes it gets tiresome.
Recently we played a family board game together (Settlers of Catan–highly recommended for older kids), and the silly sounds and voices were in full swing. We all laughed together until the antics got old and the game wasn’t working. Dad and I tried to get our son to settle down but the goofy beast kept escalating, and everyone was irritated.
Finally, Dad ordered him to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the game.
N flipped off his internal goofiness switch. The game resumed in peace and quiet.
But it wasn’t fun any more. We tried to continue, but everyone’s enthusiasm dwindled.
So we told N he could go back to his usual self. He immediately perked up, and so did we.
And then he said this:
“See, I just proved to you how much this family needs me around.”
You know, he’s absolutely right. I’m so grateful for his gift of goofiness. May he hang onto that spirit, and may we remember to treasure it every day.