On the way to the Choir Christmas Dinner/Concert last night, I made some comment about how we all need therapy. My mom was telling the kids about getting sent to her room for laughing at the dinner table and I reminded her that she did the same thing to me.
But I'm not bitter.
Daughter (#7), sitting next to me in the big van, said, "Mom. What is therapy?"
I said, "Well, I really mean counseling."
She said, "What is counseling?"
"Well. . . it's when you talk to someone who helps you understand things. Like what the Bible says about relationships, how to forgive someone who has hurt you. They help you if you are sad, or upset," I tried to explain.
"Oh." She said. "Well. . . what if you are REALLY REALLY HAPPY???" She giggled.
I told her that she should probably be the one doing the counseling, then.
"OR. . ." she continued, ". . . you could just invite everyone over for a BIG PARTY! Then they would ALL be happy!"
Sounds good to me. We're all about the parties here at the Troops.
At which point, Daughter (#6) chimed in. "Give them cupcakes and alcohol. That makes everybody happy!"
Amazing that it only takes 1.2 seconds for my mind to thoroughly evaluate my combined 17 years of parenting and wonder where exactly I've gone so terribly wrong. Before bursting into laughter, anyway.
Later on she explained that one time she saw a "Monk" episode in which Monk drank wine and he got REALLY silly. Right before he fell asleep.
Oh. Well, that makes sense.
The concert, however, was BEAUTIFUL! GLORIOUS! WORSHIPFUL!
One of my favorite nights all year.
My kids are all blessings. Every one. An example? Son (#3) offering to stay home last night with Daughter (#5) who is not quite over being sick. Did I mention he also made her dinner, did the dishes, and folded the laundry? After which they played Rumicub? Yes. I'm proud of that boy.
But something about having my two oldest sing in that wonderful choir (that I've been listening to since the Coach and were engaged) makes me cry with joy.
I know, I know. I need therapy.
Maybe for today I'll just go with the cupcake minus the alcohol.
And when Little Man has graduated from high-school and I don't have any kids left to sing in choir. . . you think they'd let me join, instead?