Rachel says, "When I grow up I want to be a
vegetarian--you know a person who helps animals." (I smile.)
Brent says,
"Well, I want to be a scientist or a video game player." (I chuckle.)
Jacob pipes up, & I quote, "When grow up I want to be a
candy taster." (Uncontrollable laughter.)
Whose kids are these?
There’s nothing like a children’s Christmas program to make us smile and laugh. We just got home from a school Christmas concert. Everyone kindergarten through eighth grade participated in singing, drama, readings, or playing an instrument. Just watching the expressions of the kids as they performed made me smile. There were also many moments of laughter.
I have been thinking about how important humor is in our lives, especially this time of year. Life can feel heavy and serious with all its challenges and stressors, so we may need to cultivate our sense of humor. If we don’t notice the little things that are funny, we just miss out. There’s nothing like laughter to put life in perspective, or to at least temporarily relieve us from the current difficulties.
A couple days ago I put on my snow boots for the first time this winter. I stuck the left foot in and zipped the boot. Then I stuck my right foot in—and wait. What was that hard thing in the toe of my boot? I pulled it back off, stuck my hand in, and pulled out a little car with Oscar the Grouch riding in it. I laughed! I think it would be fair to assume that this toy in my boot was the work of one of the grandchildren.
Then when I was baking biscotti the other day, I remembered how one year when I was baking, I inadvertently left a pot holder in the oven. When I started to smell smoke, I looked in the oven and saw my smoldering pot holder. Needless to say, I was not trying to make “smoked biscotti.” I had to throw the whole batch in the trash. It wasn’t funny at the time. Yet recalling the memory made me laugh at myself.
Another example of my recent humor is my 2 ½ year old granddaughter who reminds me often that she wants Play-Doh for Christmas. And now she is sure that this is what all the cousins should have for Christmas.
Surely there is something that will tickle your funny bone. Go ahead and laugh! It’s good medicine?
(Well, my brain is tired, and I should be in bed. If I don’t get some sleep, I’m sure I won’t see the humor in much of anything come morning.)
I looked on my desk, in my purse, and in my office with no success. I picked up the household phone and dialed my cell phone. I'll hear it ring, I thought to myself. I didn't hear it ring, so I began to think about where I last had my phone. All I could remember was having it in the pocket of my shorts. Oh, no! Surely I didn't leave it in my pocket! The shorts were currently in the washing machine.
I opened the lid and lifted my wet black shorts up, reached in the right pocket, and sure enough, my fears was confirmed. I had unintentionally baptized my phone with full immersion through the wash cycle, the rinse cycle, and the spin.
I felt horrible. This was more that a blonde moment or a senior moment. How could an overly responsible person, like I normally am, "wash" my phone?
I immediately called Verizon and explained my dilemma to Eric. He said, "Take off the back of the phone and pull the battery out. Then open the phone and let it dry out."
He went on to say that occasionally the phone will still work, often it won't, and if I was fortunate, at least I might get my contacts off the phone.
I did as I was instructed. That night before going to bed, I put the battery back in and attempted to turn it on. To my amazement, the phone came on! Then I called our home phone to see if it really worked. The home phone rang! I was relieved to say the least.
I still may have problems down the road because of my stupid mistake, but for the moment I have a usable cell phone. And by the way, I am not recommending the baptism of cell phones!
