Being a goof

Accepting adult responsibilities can be so dull.  Being a parent requires even more careful action.  I can’t just be a silly bum all the time because my children do, in fact, need a few positive role models.

That doesn’t mean, though, that I can’t goof off.  And recently, I’ve been doing it a lot.  It feels great.

Can you tell I’m not the only one?  Katie insisted that Drew needed to wear the crown.  Because he’s a prince.

I actually have quite a collection of crowns in the house. Two competition crowns I was gifted by my mother and then a bunch of plastic tiaras.  Doesn’t everyone need one?

Okay, scratch that. Not everyone needs a tiara.  But everyone does need the chance to unwind and be a goof.  Some people are not easily prone to doofus-hood, but anyone without a quirk is a dull boy or girl. Bor-ing.  And maybe even devastatingly unhappy.

I like to dance like a maniac. Preferably to the song Maniac (you know, that “Flashdance” song where Jennifer Beals spins in wild circles shaking her head like a…well…maniac).  I like vulgar humor.  I like watching fat people reality shows (usually while eating fried Chinese food).

At a book club meeting recently, I brought an Augusten Burroughs book that features funny essays. One of them is particularly disturbing and includes a bit about hardcore pornography.  I realized while talking about how hilarious I found the book that I have a pretty liberal sense of humor.  That I’m tickled by things that might horrify others.

But that’s okay.  It’s my own thing to like that kind of humor. To cackle like a madwoman, enough to frighten my children into uncomfortable laughing of their own.  While they wear their tiaras. And dance like maniacs.

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March 19, 2011. Tags: , . Getting happy.

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