LOL, And I Don't Mean Lots Of Love

One of the best things about growing old is learning to get over yourself. You’ve made such an abundance of poor choices, stupid mistakes, and misjudgments that you actually learn to laugh at yourself, along with the people around you. And, believe me, the people around you delight in reminding you of those “transgressions”, especially in front of others.
My grown children love to tell stories about me. There was the time the family was driving to grandma and grandpa’s house. I was eating an apple. When finished, I was planning to toss it out the window as we sped down the highway at 65 mph. Unfortunately, I forgot to roll down the window. As apple juice and seeds dripped down the window, my kids in the back seat went crazy, “If we had done that…blah…blah…blah…”

Then there was the time my 12 year old son and I pulled in to a Taco Bell drive thru. In my own defense, I was a high school assistant principal at the time. Needless to say, I had had a rough day – like every day! I stopped the car and waited for the voice to say, “Welcome to Taco Bell. Can I take your order, please?” I wait. I wait. I know I waited all of 5 minutes, which is an incredibly long time when you’re hungry. But, my mind was immersed in girl fights, smoking on school grounds, and public display of affection in the hallways. My 12 year old says, “Mom.” Guess I didn’t hear him. “Mom!” I look over at him. He says, “That’s a trash can!” I made sure I told everyone that story before he had a chance to tell it. Honestly, I learned to belly laugh at myself over this one. I think, the harder you’re able to laugh at yourself, the more balanced you are.

Like I’ve said, I have the incredible ability to focus on the task at hand. I can even speak to a person, not know that I am speaking, and stay focused on my task. One year, as a teacher, I was fortunate to have a study hall as part of my assignments. And, it was a dream group of students - students who did their homework, studied, and were quiet! I was able to grade papers, adjust lesson plans, create bulletin boards, design new lessons; I was able to focus. One day, I looked up from my work and realized one of my students was missing. Panicked, I said to the class, “Where is Jeremy? What happened to Jeremy?” One sweet young girl in front of my desk said, “You let him go to the restroom.” I racked my brain, trying to remember if I had indeed allowed him to leave the room. I announced, “I did NOT give him permission. Why would he just up and leave?” My perfect study hall was up for grabs, loud, laughing, out of control, probably because I kept insisting that I had not given him permission. You can imagine their responses. “You did, too, give him permission.” “You’re losing it, Mrs. H.” Jeremy walked into the room, everyone at once telling him what had transpired. I ask him to walk up to my desk and I ask him, “Did I give you permission to go to the restroom?” He pauses for a long time. He looks at me, looks back at the classmates who are eager to hear his answer. I’m sure he thinks about his forthcoming grade in my 7th hour English class. He answered, “Mrs. H., your mouth said it was OK, but I guess your brain didn’t know that.” Nailed it!!!