This morning between floss and toothpaste, my wife mentions how awesome kindergarten is for my youngest son. “They are celebrating learning to count with a marble party . . . why can’t we celebrate the small stuff?”
Of course, I miss the point. “What’s a marble party?” I ask.
“I don’t know. They play with marbles or something. The point is that they are taking time to celebrate learning to count. Why don’t adults celebrate like kids?”
“Because our brains are wired for threat,” I say, half jokingly.
She looks at me, eyebrow raised. “Really? Our six year old’s brain is wired for threat? The same kid who likes to party? Who danced the cha-cha for an hour yesterday?”
She calls him in. “Cha-cha for your father,” she says.
He cha-chas right there, no music necessary. The kid’s got moves.
I look at my wife. “Why don’t we celebrate the small stuff?”
She shrugs. “We’re too busy? Too serious? Too grownup?”
I suddenly feel like we are missing out. “Maybe paychecks are like tiny little celebrations?” I ask.
“Everybody likes a paycheck. Ka-ching.”
“Yeah, but then we spend it on the mortgage and the light bill. Where’s the celebration in that?”
“401ks don’t exactly feel like a party.”
“Maybe we should celebrate more. Take a few moments and recognize progress. Maybe we would be happier.”
“That sounds like a lesson in leader-ing,” she says.
My wife likes to tease me. I try not to encourage it, so I nod and go back to flossing. At least I didn’t have to do the cha-cha.
