I suffer from a malady that, until recently, I thought was quite unique. Unfortunately, I’ve passed it on to my oldest son. After a little research, I found that we’re not alone. There’s even a wiki-how-to that addresses the specific problem.
My son and I both suffer from smiling at inappropriate times.
How is this even an issue worth talking about? What’s the big deal about smiling at inappropriate times? Consider if you will, that your loving wife has had a horrible day. The children have disobeyed all day, the youngest stayed up straight through his nap, the dog has thrown up 3 times, the eldest has flooded the toilet, and now you’ve finally come home. The look of exasperation is evident on her face, the look of hope at a moment’s respite clear in her eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re home, it’s been a day,” says she.
And you know what’s coming, but you have to say it anyway, “Oh, I won’t be here for very long. I forgot to tell you that I’ve got a school board meeting tonight.”
“I’ve cooked dinner,” she says, desperately hoping it will change the reality of the situation.
“I’m sorry,” is about the only response left.
The temperature in the room drops noticeably. She’s needed someone to unload her day on, and now she’s got a reason. You’re in deep trouble. Before you know it, she’s in full fire hose mode, and you’re thinking, ‘Great, can this get any worse.’ And then it happens. You feel the slight tug at the corner of your mouth and you think ‘Oh, please no. Don’t let me smile. Not right now.’ But the more you think about it, the more unavoidable it becomes. The more solemn the situation is, the more undeniable the urge to grin.
In the earlier days of our marriage, this particular proclivity of mine served to throw a gallon of fuel on an already raging fire. Fortunately, after twelve years of marriage, my wife has grown tolerant of my cheese-eating grin, and even stops to make fun of me when they occur. In a way, it sort of helps diffuse the situation...now.
My poor son has a long way to go though. The other day, we were in Burger King, and he had packed his little belly as tight as he could. At this point, the only way to continue eating is to rear your head back and let fly with a belch big enough to shake the heavens. He made me proud. His mother, not so much. She immediately set in to correct him on the proper etiquette of belching in public, and I saw the smile spread across his little face.
“This is not funny, Griffin,” his mother said. And something in my brain immediately kicked in, and I thought, ‘Yeah, it actually is kind of funny.’ So, I quickly got up and went to get a refill on my already full drink.
Now armed with this knowledge, can you even begin to fathom what happens when I go in to correct him for some error, only to see him struggling to keep the grin off his face? The results tend to be about as far from correction as can be. He starts smiling, then I start smiling, and before you know it, there’s not a bit of righteous fury or indignation left in me. Honestly, how do you convince a kid of the seriousness of the situation when you can’t keep a smirk off your own face?
Maybe someday there will be a cure for this social malady. Until then, my son and I will suffer in silence…grinning like hyenas.
