Why is it that a miserable situation suddenly becomes funny when one more thing goes wrong? The first time I remember noticing this incongruity was while I was waiting tables. The boss was hitting on me, I wasn’t getting any decent tips (probably because I was an awful waitress), my friend (who was the only reason I was working there) wasn’t there that night, and I was basically miserable. Then a little girl drank an entire glass of chocolate milk and vomited all over the table. You would think that that would have been enough to make me cry, quit, have a big drink, something to indicate that I’d been pushed over the edge. But, no, I hadn’t been pushed over the edge, I’d been pushed all the way around the bend. It was hilarious. The poor girl’s parents were humiliated and apologized profusely, took their food to go and left a huge tip. I got into my groove with waiting tables, got some good tips, and was absolutely happy the rest of the night. I didn’t even have to clean up the puke. What a great night!
Today was a hard day. K2 was sick (again), so no school today for him. K1 got in trouble at school, which meant he was really angry with the world once he got home and was told no electronics. Everyone was cranky because K2 kept us all up with his coughing. So I decide to get us out into the fresh air this lovely March day and fly our kites. Little kids don’t know how to fly kites, and are essentially incapable of following directions well enough to fly their own kites. K1 can keep one in the air for a few minutes at a stretch. K2 has no business touching a kite, but try telling him that. We’d been out about 2 minutes before the first kite broke – K2 stepped on the string and it just snapped right off the kite. Needless waste, but no big deal, we had an extra. Once I helped him get started, K1 did a great job flying his kite while I fought with K2 to get his going. As soon as K2’s was up, K1’s Spongebob kite got caught in a tree, immediately followed by K2’s Fantastic Four kite nosediving into the pavement. I tried to get Spongebob free, but it was a few feet out of my reach. So I gave Fantastic Four to K1, and went to get a tool to get Spongebob out of the tree.
I looked pathetic enough that a neighbor came out to help (she was about a foot taller than me, and having 2 grown ups doing the job was a LOT easier). About the time that it was clear we were going to save Spongebob, the Fantastic Four made a desperate bid for freedom, tripping K1 and ripping the spool out of his hands. Away went the Fantastic Four. Up, up, up…
Until the spool got caught in the upper reaches of a huge tree. There wass the Fantastic Four, proud and free, flying high for the whole neighborhood to see. At this point, I was still really irritated, or should I say irritable? I mean, come on, how hard is it to hold onto the spool? It’s a little piece of plastic with a handle you can put 4 fingers in. And now there was no way I could make things even for the boys – one kite, 2 boys. Not good!
So spongebob is free again, so I give it to K1 and tell K2 to go get his bike. K1 follows K2 back to our house, tucks the spindle into the mailbox to go “hands-free” for a bit, and Spongebob promptly goes to his maker. He gets tied up on our satellite dish. I cut the string, thinking, “great, now our satellite is going to be messed up, we’re going to have to get someone out here to fix it, why can’t these kids follow directions, you’ve got to be kidding me, where is my wine… “ And then Spongebob began to fly. Anchored on the satellite dish and the roof, the string refuses to budge, providing the drag the kite needs to really fly high.
And suddenly, it’s hilarious. We started out with three kites and two kids. We now had two flying kites (just way out of our reach) and two biking kids. All my stress was suddenly gone. Even when K2 caught an injured lizard, it was still funny. I wasn’t worried about getting dinner ready anymore. I wasn’t thinking about housework. I wasn’t concerned about finances. Everything was okay.
So why is that? Does that final thing just put everything into perspective? Is it that if I can get through this, the rest of life is a piece of cake? Or does the final straw act as a lever to make the whole load slide right off my back?
