I have an embarassing story to share. Some of you may judge. But I have to tell the story because I haven't laughed so hard in months. I mean pull out the Depends because I have lost control laughter.
For a few days preceding Thanksgiving my son has been impressing me with his understanding of the holiday. He told me about the Mayflower and pilgrims and the American Indians that helped them. One day he wore home a paper pilgrim costume and the next day he wore home a beautiful hand-drawn Indian vest made from a grocery bag and wore a headband naming himself Cave Bear.
On Wednesday night, he presented a two minute show with a pilgrim puppet, a drawing of an Indian chief, and a drawing of a turkey. It was wonderful. It was short. It was relatively historically accurate.
So I made a rookie mistake. A call to your mom to tell her the baby is talking and then watch helplessly as the once talkative baby goes silent rookie mistake. I bragged. I talked up the impending play to everyone. "Wait until you see his show after lunch. It's soooo good." What the fudgesicle was I thinking?
So I gather everyone in the living room. I introduce him. And then something happens. I should have known that my son might demonstrate some love for an audience. So he starts to smile a half-smile. Always a sign that something is coming. So with an impish gleam in his eye, he begins the play. The same look that he gave before his shepherd turned his backside to the audience at his Christmas Pageant last year, leaned over, pulled up his tunic and did a booty dance.
It started innocently enough. The pilgrim met the Indian. Then for reasons never explained the Indian went gansta on the pilgrim. He pounded the pilgrim. Now understand, my son is dressed as the Indian. So he is punching the pilgrim puppet on his hand. Then the puppet pilgrim punched back.
At some point, I believe that aliens flew in and shot up the Mayflower. Honestly, it looked like one of those moments in a Robin Williams film where the filmmakers just raise their hands helplessly and just let him go. My son literally channeled the genie from "Aladdin".
So the two minute Thanksgiving play became a ten minute "Pilgrims meet Independence Day". (I can hear the Hollywood pitch now). Now here's where you may judge. I kept trying to encourage him to go back to the story but I'm not sure that he was able to understand anything I was saying from my position on the floor convulsing in hysterics. I was not able to address the violence, the historical issues, anything. I just rolled and rolled with laughter.
So in a couple of years, I am expecting a call from the school asking me to explain why my son's answers in American History sound like a James Cameron film ("Aliens", not "Titanic"). And it probably won't help when I roll on the floor laughing. Oh. Did I mention we have this on tape? I'm not sure if that will come back to haunt me or him more. Probably me. Yeah, definitely me.
P.S. Stay tuned... Tomorrow I get to tell you about something exciting that I'm a part of. :-)