In last week's blog (the first weekend of spring break), I wrote about the life lessons my girls were teaching me while my wife was visiting a friend in Boston. (Read it here: Life Lessons from My Girls). But the lessons continued when my other girl--my wife--got home.
People will pay $70+ a ticket to hear Jim Gaffigan for 90 minutes. Others will pay more for silliness. Why? Because silliness carries value in our lives. It allows us a break to be more productive on the other side.
As for me, I'm fortunate. I don't have to pay a thing for this all-important characteristic.
Truth is: I often take myself too seriously. I find myself working too many hours and thinking of my job as a sprint (and, yes, I'm glad I do see it as that sometimes. I am certainly NOT belittling the importance of my job as an educator). During my normal hours, my everyday life, silly is not my thing. I smile a lot--and even laugh. But that's not silly. I need reminders to be silly--to laugh and chuckle. To roll on the floor laughing--kicking and screaming because the tickle torture I'm receiving has gone on too long. To be startled and scream like my five-year-old self when my girls--yes, including the 37-year-old one--jump out from around the corner. I need that from them because I don't produce it enough in myself.
The value? I get to be a kid. And smile more broadly. And laugh more loudly. And--eventually--embrace more passionately. And breathe more freely.
It's silliness that allows me to work harder and make a bigger difference in the world.
It's because of the silliness I received over spring break from all of my girls that I am now ready for the final push of the school year.