Hat-a-boy

Once again, it took a kid to make me not take myself so seriously.
A few months back, I told you the story of walking into the kitchen and seeing my son sitting at the table, happy as could be, chugging a bottle of syrup. When he saw my wife and me staring at him, he put down the bottle, looked at us and said, “YUM!”
Sure, he was sticky and nasty and didn’t sleep for the next 11 days, but by gum, it felt good, so he did it.
My wife and I on occasion remind each other to chug syrup when the other is being a little too caught up in the insignificant things in the world. It’s not in one of those cheesy, new-wave manners, either. It’s usually me going to the cabinet and getting the bottle of syrup and offering to pour for her, which she finds just hilarious. (Let’s just say if there is ever a pillow dodging competition, I will be an early front runner for the gold.)
But anyway, I have found the concept of syrup chugging to be a solid one. Recently, my son tacked on a new one that definitely led to a good day. And when I am having a bad day, I think back to this and realize there is enough seriousness in the world. Lighten up once in a while.
Parker and I were getting ready to leave for school. I was in the kitchen and called for him to come downstairs. I went to the stairs to help him get his shoes on, when I saw him start down the stairs. While wearing a sombrero.
We then had this conversation:
ME: Uh, what you wearing?
PARKER: A hat.
ME: That’s a sombrero.
PARKER: And a hat. I’m gonna wear it to school.
ME: You can’t wear a sombrero to school.
PARKER: Why?
I started to answer, when it occurred to me, I have no idea why you can’t wear a sombrero to school. I mean, they may have rules about hats and such in the school, but why can’t you throw on a sombrero and wear it on the way to school?
ME: You know what, Parker? Wear the sombrero.
PARKER: I am. To school.
When we got to school, Parker hopped out of the car and adjusted his sombrero. He had a little spring in his step, what with his fancy new topper. As we prepared to cross the road, a car passed by. I noticed the driver glanced over at Parker and had a nice little chuckle. Way to pay it forward.
When we got to school, Parker went past his classroom and to my wife’s classroom. (I suppose it goes without saying that she teaches there. She has not been held back in kindergarten for three decades.)
He strolled into her room and said, “Look, Mommy, a sombrero.” My wife looked at me. I shrugged and said, “Why not?”
Parker left his sombrero with Mommy, and I headed off to face the day, certainly taking myself a little less seriously than I normally would.
Maybe it’s something that just fades as you get older. I can see my daughter starting to care on occasion what people think. She’s six now, and we sometimes have lengthy debates on what clothes should be worn or what shoes go with what. Allie hates it when I’m in charge of getting her dressed in the morning, because I am always pushing the one outfit I can do: blue jeans, sweatshirt, ballcap. She prefers these incredibly complicated dresses that require bows to be tied and hair clip-thingees to be put in and matching shoes. Let’s be honest – as I type this, I am not sure if my socks match. No clue. I am not the best choice to be coordinating accessories.
But then there are the other times when she exhibits some of the carefree nature that feels so liberating. Can you recall the last time you were in a store and decided it was the perfect time to sing “Under the Rainbow”? And most of the people who see this find it refreshing. (Granted, some people grumble and stomp and curse under their breath about how kids today don’t behave and a kid should be seen and not heard and how back in their day, when they went to the store, so much as a peep would result in a trip to the switch aisle. Hopefully, these people were on their way to the syrup aisle.)
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not advocating strolling through the store in a Cinco de Mayo get-up while belting out show tunes. I will admit that would be somewhat disturbing. But consider a quick ride on the back of the grocery cart. High five your drug store clerk. When someone catches you singing in the car, roll down your window and say, “Come on, you know the words! Sing along!”
Sure, being goofy once in a while may elicit stares. But don’t worry about that. The people with a little bit of life left in them will feel something stirring. It’s the fun side of you. And it’s wanting to see daylight, just every once in a while. And the people who don’t feel it? They just need some syrup.