Who knew? Middle aged, over weight, constantly exhausted & brain fogged- not a regular receipe for ‘all the fun’. Or so you’d think. That’s because you’re not considering the whole picture. Consider the opportunities for inadvertent fun. Yes. I’m accidentally hilarious.
Case study 1.
We had 2 weeks with Nana & Grandad by the seaside. We could walk to the beach and the ‘town’. Being Ireland in July, we had all the weather. My wooly hat got worn plenty. More remarkably, the swimsuit came out, and on to the beach. Under things, of course, but still… On the good day, everybody was up and out in a rush, but I was dawdling, sleepy. Grand, no problem, I’d catch them up. I wondered about the wetsuit. Would it still fit? I didn’t want to carry it if I couldn’t get into it. Best to try it on first. Too late, I remembered that getting the wetsuit on wasn’t the problem. I know (but had forgotten) that I can’t get it off by myself. I was in the house on my own, dressed in rubber. Sweating. Stuck. My people were on the beach for the day. Reluctantly, it dawned on me that there was only one thing to do. I had to join them. I had to pretend it wasn’t an issue. I had to pretend I wasn’t mortified. I had to pretend that I was happy to parade through County Clare in an ill fitting short wetsuit. (The short nature of the garment made it worse, not only displaying wobbly white bits, but clearly demonstrating my amateur status.) I had to pretend that I didn’t feel extra foolish because I was carrying a bag. And when I found my family in the sea, they creased up. ‘But what did you wear?’ ‘This. This is what I wore all the way here.’ Oh what fun.
Case study 2.
Eventually we had to come home, leaving behind a wonderful beach and spectacular views. My sore throat took the duration of the journey to turn into something else. I have spent the last week being miserable and melodramatic, floored by a nasty version of a common cold. Spurs Fan moved to sleep on the hall floor one night because of my noisy noises, and now Girls are doing the unheard of- voluntarily sharing a room at home- out of pity for him. My family have been repulsed (snot), concerned (Did all that coughing make you sick? Have you broken a rib yet?) and entertained by me. They’re having great fun at the alternating no voice and dodgy hearing. They’re mouthing words at me, and getting me to repeat things, for the craic.
My children are making fun of me, happy and content that I will recover my dignity eventually. They are bonding at my expense. They are being kind and loving and funny.
My work here is done.