Smiling at the Absurdity

Sometimes you just have to laugh. Life is chock-full of ridiculousness. My morning was an example of this. Declan and I were having one of those mornings that only parents with school-aged children can understand.

I've discovered a strange occurrence: my child who normally is on hyper-warp speed, going a hundred miles a minute, cannot move quickly when I actually need him to hurry. Whether this be in the morning when trying to get to school or when we're going somewhere for an appointment, it is physically impossible to get this child to move at a pace faster than molasses! So, today we had one of those "Hurry up!" mornings and ended up arriving at school just as the late bell rang, earning our first tardy of the year.

Declan got out of the car, then leaned back in to give me a hug and kiss. As I waited for the car in front of me to move, I noticed Declan was trying to catch my eye and was looking kind of upset. "Mom, I forgot!" He pointed into the car. Nothing on the seat or floor. He had his backpack in hand. I shook my head, and said, "You have everything. You're late, go inside." He was near tears. I told him I loved him one last time and said good-bye, and drove off. I saw him walking into the building in my rearview mirror.

Less than 3 miles and 3 minutes away from the school, my cell phone rang. It was Declan, crying.

"Mom, I forgot something!"

Oh no. This must be serious! They let him use the phone in the front office to call me. I racked my brain. What could he have possibly forgotten? Backpack; check. Homework; check. Lunch; check. I had no idea.

"What did you forget, Declan?"

His voice quivered through his tears. "The gum."

What? I must not have heard him right. "What did you say?"

"The chewing gum. I forgot the gum in your car," he replied, sounding calmer.

"GUM?! You called me about gum?" I spied the offending pink plastic gum container in my cup holder. I was incredulous. My voice lowered an octave to deliver my reply: "Declan, gum is not an emergency. You did not need to use the phone at school to call me about gum."

"Well, will you bring it?" he asked tentatively.

I shook my head. Clearly my child had lost his mind. "No, Declan. I am not going to bring you gum. You don't need gum at school and you shouldn't have called me. You need to go to class, and I am going to work."

There was only silence.

"Declan?"

Still silence.

"Declan? Are you there?"

"You're yelling at me and I hate when you do that," came the sniffling response.

"I'm not yelling, but I am upset that you had the office let you call me about gum. Now go to class. I love you. Wipe away the tears. Try to be happy now and make this a good day. I'll see you tonight." I hung up the phone and just shook my head and laughed at the absurdity of what had just taken place.

Yep. Sometimes it's the sheer absurdity of life that makes me smile. I asked Declan tonight why he called me about gum. His response, "Because I wanted it." Even funnier--he actually thought that I would bring it to him. In fact, only moments ago when we were rehashing the morning's events (*and arguing about whether I can share stories about him in my "journal"), he asked me why I didn't bring him the gum. I believe my carefully worded articulate response was a snort. I love this child to death, but c'mon, really now, what is he thinking?!

Well it was gum, after all. And as Jimmy Buffett says,"Yeah, you chew a little Juicy Fruit. It's good for ya soul."