Saturday, October 23, 2004

Tiny Bubbles

Tiny Bubbles

Life is upside-down, but back to normal, DAD---dy (as 2 year old would say), has returned.

Back to the goal:
Live, love, laugh and have fun.

With great pride I relate the following story to you. I believe I demonstrated incredible restraint and control, while relishing the moment. A feat that I must brag is completely aligned with my goal!

Returning from an overseas jaunt, daddy never fails to entertain and delight the kiddies with wonderful gifts, stories of adventure and new-fangled toys. One deserves mentioning. He began with, "I never imagined our outdoor fun was over, this may not be appropriate now...", and ended with handing the kids their own bubble-makers. Of course, no new toy can be left in the package or remain untouched for longer than 15 seconds, a rule I'm quickly becoming familiar with. In short order, a bubble-maker emerged from the packaging, even before I could read said packaging. Wow, bubbles you can hold and that don't go away, how exciting!

In shear minutes the room was filled with bubbles, bubbles that floated in midair, bubbles that skidded along the floor as we walked, bubbles that made little guy squeal in delight and big guy laugh uncontrollably. Bubbles that made mom giggle and dad nervous. Someone turned the stereo on, and then the dancing began, dancing and rolling around the floor in bubbles, tiny, floating and skidding bubbles. Uncontrolled craziness.

My mom voice kept whispering in the back of my head, this can't be good. This won't lead anywhere good. Someone will get hurt..., someone will take an eye out..., the hardwood floor..., the leather couch..., someone will need to clean up this mess... I held back, I didn't let my mom voice out. I was biting my tongue, I was holding my breath. And then, dad-dy said it, "OK, boys, that's enough, you're making a mess!"

The mom voice was right. There was a layer of white goo on everything. The leather couch, the hardwood floor, the walls... It's three days later and I found a shrunken bubble on the hutch in the dining room. Big problem? Nothing a little Windex doesn't fix...

The last time I had so much fun I was 19 and feeling no pain, it was a wee hour in the morning, and the bar had closed. I was gathered with a number of equally painless school friends at our most unlucky friend's apartment. We all had munchies and someone had a bright idea to make popcorn. As it was back in pre-microwave popcorn days, the popcorn and oil were heated in a pot on the stove. Our self-appointed chef; probably the least qualified for the job, knew the intricacies of good popcorn. He waited for the popcorn to begin popping, and then began to gently shake the pot. Just as everything seemed to be going smoothly and we imagined we were minutes away from a bowl of butter (yes, real butter) covered popcorn, an evil glint and mischievous smile appeared on the chef's face. He yelled, "Free for all!!," as he lifted the lid off the pot and; laughing insanely, continued to shake it, ducking and weaving to avoid hot flying missiles of popcorn. Popcorn flew across every corner of the 500 sq. ft. apartment, we threw it in the air, rolled in it, and laughed uncontrollably at our chef, as he seemed to enter a 'zone', ducking and weaving, ducking and weaving, insanely laughing throughout. Someone had to clean up that mess, too... At 19, that wasn't something that even crossed my mind!

So much has changed since I was 19. Many changes I'm glad for. I'm far from a confused and self-conscious adolescent, and that's a good thing. Some of the things I miss are the adventures, the excitement, the friendships, and the laughs. Think about it, if we were to put a penny into a piggybank each time we laughed from the time we were 2 to 20, and take one out for every time we laughed beginning when we were 20, how old do you think you would be before you emptied the bank? I know I would be over 60, in fact, I would be surprised if I EVER emptied the bank!

posted by Colleen at 12:30 PM