The other day I told my 7-year old to go in his room and get dressed. He usually puts on Gangham style to dance along to while he gets ready. I was preparing to hear that song for the 987th time. This week alone. Instead, I hear him singing Willow Smith’s song, I whip my hair back and forth. Except, instead of hair, he seems to be whipping his something else back and forth. His balls. Yikes. I listen at the door. I am too scared to go in, too scared to knock, and really want to call my husband. As the man of the house, he should have to handle the balls. And I will handle the vaginas. It was in our vows I’m pretty sure.
I whip my balls back and forth, I whip my balls back and forth, I whip my balls back and forth. Over and over. Of course, I’m wondering if he is going to be the next greatest Chippendale dancer. Cringe.
I finally knock and walk in at the same time because that’s what I’m allowed to do since I’m a mom. He was waving around one of Toby’s dog toys…that is a rope with two balls on each end.
Side Note: I had to find a picture of this on the interwebs because this “virtually indestructible” dog toy now looks like this:
Side Note 2: There are no balls to be whipped back and forth. I think I need to shop in the Aggressive Chewer section at Petsmart.
Back to the story:
Quick sigh of relief before inserting my foot into my mouth. Wow. What an assumption I made. And so quickly. It didn’t cross my mind that he could be doing something so innocent and sweet. (except that he was in fact jumping on the bed and torturing the dog. By whipping Toby’s balls back and forth.)
We all assume something at some point. It is so easy to assume that everyone’s lives are better, that Tuesday comes after Monday, and that people are going to screw you over. I told my yoga students this same thing…on our mats it is easy to assume we know what is coming next. When you are so focused on what is coming next, or what you think you know, you miss out on the right now. The present. When you check out of the present, it is easy to check out of happiness itself.
This is a picture of my white ink tattoo I got last summer. I love it. I am usually the only one who sees it. My husband forgets I even have it. But, I didn’t get it for him. I got it for me. It is the Sanskrit symbol for Namaste, which basically means the light in me sees the light in you.
What if we all went through life assuming good about ourselves and others? What if we assumed that since I am joyful and caring, then so are you? Let’s all start assuming that people are peaceful, loving creatures moving along this earth with grace. Starting….NOW!
I tried to not do this. I couldn’t help it. I’m going to assume he thinks it is funny because I do. Namaste.