When my late brother Steven and I were young kids, we had a tape recorder. We got it in our heads that we were going to record mama screaming and yelling mad. So our evil plan was to make her mad while she was in the kitchen washing the dishes. Steven hid around the corner in the living room holding the recorder, while I went in the kitchen to badger her. Great plan, right? I asked what was for supper – then said that it sounded horrible. That didn't work. I said all kinds of mean things to her, but she never got mad like we wanted her to.
Finally, I guess she could only take so much. I remember it like it was yesterday. She flung her soapy hands, and water and soap flew everywhere.! Her face was beet red! I stopped flat in my tracks. Steven turned off the recorder. We were both frozen in fear. Mama turned around and said, “I'm so mad I could dance a jig!” We all three looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. I just knew we were dead. My life was passing before me. (It only took a few seconds, as I was still quite young.) All of a sudden the spell was broken when she actually started shuffling from side to side in a comical Laurel and Hardy sort of way. Steven and I looked at each other in disbelief. Could this be real? Could we have driven her mad? We looked back at her and then we saw the humorous look on her face. That's when we realized that she wasn't mad at all – she was laughing! So we did too. Then we both started dancing our own jigs. You should have seen the three of us dancing in the kitchen that day.
This was a very memorable lesson that I learned and that I've always remembered and drawn upon during my life. Sometimes when things get out of control – the kids, the husband, the job, the bills, etc. - I just dance a jig, real or metaphorical. Sometimes you just need to stop and dance a jig! This is a true story. No person or limbs were harmed in the telling of it. Now go dance your own jig and have a Happy Mother's Day!