Last week, I was trying to instill in my children, especially the 12- and 14-year-olds, the importance of teamwork in family life. Specifically, I referred to the six baskets of unfolded laundry that they had walked past for three days, never thinking once about grabbing one to fold and put away. (My husband, wonderful man that he is, never met a basket of laundry he couldn’t throw in the washer and then leave unfolded once plucked from the dryer. I’m just thankful he has always tried to help. Our clothes are not so happy with him, but I digress.)
I said something along the lines of:
MOMMY: You guys seem to always think just of yourselves, always watching out for number one.
MOMMY: Just a minute, Max. We need to work together–
MAXWELL: But mommy . . .
MOMMY: (frustrated) What is it Maxwell?
MAXWELL: But I don’t want to be number one; I want to be number ten.
The girls started snickering. I fought it for about four seconds, then dissolved with them into a fit of giggles.
There are now seven baskets of laundry, awaiting their fate. They’ll probably end up back in the washer.
Can you think of a time when a funny interjection diffused a serious situation? Please share!