Went to dinner last night at a the home of a bloke from work, his wife, and not quite 3 year old son. From sitting near him at the office and hearing him talk about his family, I'd always wanted to meet his wife and especially his child, who he always referred to simply as "HIM". As a matter of fact, I never knew his son's name until months later when I just asked.
Stepping through their front door and expecting a cross between "Problem Child 3" and the kid from the "Omen", I instead saw a cherubic little golden-haired boy who was bashful and just wanted to play.
Then came time for dessert. And not the dessert the son wanted.
I'm trying to think of a way to describe the transformation.
Lights flickered. The sky darkened.
It was sorta like the Looney Tunes character the Tasmania Devil right when Bugs Bunny has exploded a stick of dynamite in the zip-up hollow rubber duck disguised as dinner.
Up he spun: a whirlwind of malevolent energy.
But one simple scoop of ice cream on a sugar cone (not one of the dessert options, might I add) and peace and joy were restored. I later even blew soap bubbles while he laughed delightedly, chasing them about before heading off to bed.
Remember when life was that simple? And how some of us allow ourselves to be trapped in those wild rides of unbearable ups and downs over what only matter for the moment?
Me? I think it's all about managing expectations. Thinking about what is it that make us lose our center and so wind up living a life of reaction rather than of contemplation. Trying to understand just what it is that is important. And finding joy in that which we find completes our experiences here.
Chasing bubbles.
- Farmer Ted
2 comments:
Nice to see you using the term "bloke"!
I work with a couple of folks like that... as long as they get their way, everything is fine, but if things don't go their way... oh boy!
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