A Little Fun at Mom's Expense

"Hey, can I have some of that?" asked Andrew as James closed the fridge door.

"No... next time ask me before I put it back!"

"Ha!" I said. "James takes it out, uses it and puts it right back after two seconds, then says ask me before I put it back!"

"What?" James gasped. "Mom! I took the jug out, opened it, poured some into my ice cream, closed the jug and put it back in the fridge. He had lots of time to say something!"

"Andrew," I protested, "I didn't even SEE it!" As if that settled everything.

"But," sputtered Andrew, "I didn't think we were allowed any milk! So I'm like poke! poke! point! point! to get Mom to say I can have some before I ask for it!!"

Suddenly it dawned on me. "Andrew, did you poke me?"

"Yes! Twice!"

At this, I dissolved in helpless laughter as I realized what had just happened. Not only had I not seen the jug of milk, but I had been totally oblivious to Andrew's poking and wild gesticulating. And where were James and Andrew sitting? At the other end of the table? Not a chance. I was sitting at the end of the table closest to the fridge, while James sat on one side of the table and Andrew on the other -- right in front of me!

I declare, with each week that passes, my life resembles more and more the study scenes at Ontario Bible College where my friends Bev and Helen and I dissolved into fits of uncontrollable giggles while we were supposedly working on papers or cramming for exams. When asked how we could laugh at such a serious time, we said, "It's either laugh or cry, or crack under the strain." And I am glad I can laugh about this, but I wish there weren't so much to laugh about, if you know what I mean.

How does that happen anyway? How am I able to tune out what is happening right under my nose in full view? The really weird thing about this is, I was talking to James the whole time this was going on! It is most disconcerting, most embarrassing, and most humbling.

The simple answer is, I have an incredible capability for hyperfocusing, and sometimes at the most inopportune times. Not surprising, since it is a typical characteristic of ADD. The best thing, I am finding, is to learn to laugh at myself. The trouble is, right now it is more to save face than it is to genuinely laugh at myself. I am beginning to see the value in acting the part of the clown when I am in the spotlight, as that is where I find myself more and more these days.

I can also see why so many people prefer to stay stuck in their problems rather than leave them behind in favour of a better way of life. At least their problems are familiar territory. They may not be comfortable, but they are still in their comfort zone.