I’m in search of my sense of humor. I had it three weeks ago on Sunday, but when I woke on Monday it was gone. I could have lost it during the night. I do toss and turn and sometimes sleep walk. I lose my car keys daily and often end up at work with all my gym stuff, minus one running shoe. So, it is plausible I misplaced it or lost it at the DMV. It has taken a beating over the past few weeks and it just might have gone on vacation with my motivation. It never does anything by itself it seems. I looked for a note, but all I found was a random list on the kitchen table telling me to buy more coffee and half & half.

I have looked high and low. I have spent more time in the low places to be honest. It tends to linger there more. If you should see my humor, could you try to appeal to its senses and persuade it to return it to me. It responds to really bad puns, even the intended ones. It also likes poop jokes, SouthPark episodes, The Daily Show, and really anything on Comedy Central. It also seems my humor has a mad crush on Larry David, so please invite him to join in on the search. My humor also likes Seinfeld one liners too. So, if you could walk around your hood yelling randoms things related to the above, I am certain one of you will be able to bring it out of hiding or back from vacation. Catching it might pose to be the tricky part. Have a bottle of wine handy…the good stuff. Trust me, my humor will know if it’s crap.

There could be a good chance that my humor is hiding out with my motivation. This might be a awesome opportunity to get two birds with one stone. My behind will be be forever grateful for your extra efforts. My motivation responds to some pretty harsh name calling and insults. You can start slow with some childish stuff, but then jump right in with abuse about my career, political, and religious choices and go from there..please be creative. Don’t worry, the name calling will not scare off my sense of humor. She likes it. I am pretty certain that when I find my motivation she will be clinging to my missing running shoe too.

I truly believe that the safety of my daughter is contingent on me saying “be careful” sometimes loudly and repeatedly at her. I find that I am yelling it always and often in the middle of acts of scootering, tripping, running, climbing and really during any foolish forward movement. I feel that I need to be super close to her ears when this is said, so to orchestrate this “be safe” mantra takes some quick thinking sometimes. I am certain she hears my screaming “be careful” voice in her sleep.
When this is said, she is fine… always. I do worry what happens when she is not with me. However, my theory is she will be fine because I say “be careful” so often and with such intensity that the universe has no choice but to back the fuck off and let Ella pass by unscathed, mostly. This is the unspoken deal that we have. I will trade some of my sanity, and some brown or red or what ever the heck my hair color is for a few more grays.
I realize that I forgot to say “be careful” today as I am watching her during her weekly horse riding lesson. Why does she choose to appreciate such a large animal? I am much more comfortable with her choice to ride a sheep at the county fair. I might be more likely to whisper “be careful” to the sheep instead of Ella, maybe. But as for today I need to make things right and honor my agreement with this universe. My present dilemma is how do I get close enough to say “be careful” without spooking the horse and avoid getting trampled? Perhaps, the universe will just let this one slid, since I tend to have these two words covered most of the time? I do wonder how parents of professional athletes do it aside from signing their souls over to the devil or with Chunky Soup. I am certain that my “be careful” agreement would have to get pumped up with some type of steroid in order for it or me to survive. However, as for today I am wading across a field against my better judgment to mutter two words that might be my last. Next week Ella will be riding a pony, a miniature horse, or a carousel.