Who taught you how to be silly?
August 6, 2019

Many years ago I went on a date with a guy who told me the memory he most cherished of his late mother was falling asleep to the sound of her laughter. I couldn’t stop thinking about that. I didn’t know if I was going to be a mom, but I knew what kind of mom I wanted to be.

Silly.

That’s one reason I woke Katie up on her third day of kindergarten by saying, “There’s my sleepyhead!” Pause. “Well, bless my soul!” I used the same silly voice she had the night before, when she taught us the woodpecker song she’d learned in school.

She woke up. She woke up, she started giggling, and we sang that little jingle over and over until our stomachs couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mom,” she said. “I really liked it when you did that.” She told me that right away. Then she told me again a few minutes later, from the tub. And then again at breakfast. And then again while we waited for her bus.

I don’t know which was sweeter, the giggles -- or how much she appreciated them. But they both inspired more of the same, forever and ever, amen.