Tonight we read “The Bad Book” by Andy Griffiths for my son’s bedtime story. He just turned nine, and I am re-discovering all the awful, hysterical humor that goes with that age. But the story that made me burst out into soul-filling, loud, raucous laughter – the very best one of all – was called something like, “Bad Mummy and the Very Hungry Lion”.
Every mom I know has these days, where she goes, “I’m the worst mom ever, because I…” and you can fill in the blank with shouted, smacked, made a bad dinner, forgot the groceries, forgot to pack school lunch, forgot about the excursion…”
The list goes on and on (and on). I do it to myself, when my lovely children say those cutting words, “I want a different family.” How do they know the words that hurt most? Like blades, they are.
Anyway, reading about Bad Mummy and the Very Hungry Lion kind of put it all into perspective. Then there was Bad Mummy and the Very High Cliff. You get the drift.
My son and I had tears in our eyes we were laughing so hard.
And laughter, after a difficult decision of reducing my race distance from 43km to 21km for my upcoming Roller Coaster Run this Saturday, that laughter was like salve on a burn.
Suddenly, the world is okay again. And I just cleaned the kitchen to Bon Jovi’s new song, “What About Now” and woke up to the fact that I’ve got a lot to say, and I’m the only one who can say it. So I’m going to get to work on the two books I’ve had on hold for a little while.
Because maybe there is someone out there who needs my books just as much as I needed The Bad Book tonight.
What about now, indeed!