Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Hume

Hume who?

Hume did you expect?

As I wrote last week, last Sunday was Laetare Sunday, the Sunday of joy. My week overflowed with it, along with laughter and mirth. Knock-knock jokes filled the back seat of the car taking two Grands home after play day. The older one has a book, I have to use my phone because we can’t share sources–that would be cheating, and I might take the good ones. Apparently, I never have good ones on my phone because after my turn I hear, ‘I’m not laughing.’ But he tells me this with a twinkle in his eye and biting the inside of his cheek, or hiding behind his book, so I’m not sure he’s telling me the truth.

The three-year-old takes his turn, but when we ask, ‘Who’s there?’, he answers with a string of rhyming words and unintelligible mumblings. We never quite get who’s actually there, but we laugh anyway, and he seems to appreciate it.

Two of our Grands had their spring concerts this week, each lasted a full 20 minutes. On Thursday we watched the kindergarten production of Three Nanny Goats Gruff – the musical. We returned on Friday for the first-grade travelogue complete with square dancing, a pony, Old MacDonald with hand puppets, and the chorus sporting Hawaiian shirts and shades. Kudos to the music teachers who put these together.

Then who knew bottles of bubbles and bags of balloons could produce so many giggles? All the Grands have tablets, but per their parents, none are allowed to bring them to Nana and Papa’s. Parents–they don’t miss them. We spent a good hour on the deck chasing bubbles and watching them float over the railing out of reach; playing keepy-uppy with two balloons going can be a work-out.

Not necessarily a joyful task, but one that’s been a source of laughter–potty training with one of the Grands. The first time he decided to try the little toilet–his words–I sat on the floor and read Bluey’s Twelve Days of Christmas. It’s now the go to when he has to go. I sing the words and he repeats each line, but the song’s ‘…two magpies…’ becomes his ‘… too many pies …’ I’m not about to correct him, even if there’s no such thing as too many pies.

Adding to the amusement of these breaks in play, is older brother bringing in Bluey and Bingo–who have voice boxes and say 9 different sentences each!–and we have conversations. One asks, Would you like to buy a statue? and the other answers, ‘You have to find faeries with your heart.’ both in their adorable Australian voices. I do my best mimic of the accent answering, and ‘exasperated’ our singing keeps getting interrupted.

We ended the week celebrating a Grand’s sixth birthday which included an Easter egg hunt. One of the gifts he received was a dinosaur head mask. It fits like a helmet with chin strap so when the child moves his jaw, the dino’s jaw moves too, and roars. Now all three of the older 4 Musketeers have one, and the first thing they asked was, ‘Nana! Can we bring these to the next Cousins’ Sleepover?!?’ I think I may see if they make adult-sized masks …

It wasn’t only Grands that brought joy this week. Tuesday evening was a Kakalak reading at the wonderful Taste Full Beans Coffee House in Hickory, NC. The popular place was packed. The joy came in the gathering of old and new friends, the shared love of poetry, the shared emotions from hearing about a soldier’s first deployment in the Middle East to another poet’s final thoughts on HOA covenants.

While doing dishes, a flitter outside the window caught my attention–my first butterfly of the year. A large yellow one, the color of spring. Perfect as the season officially begins tomorrow.

I was on a ‘by invitation only’ list for a special event. I can’t attend, but to have been included felt like the award nominee who says it’s just nice to have been nominated and sincerely means it.

Sharing joy with another loved one this week was a highlight. She’d had a really crappy weekend last weekend, so met up with a friend for a drink. When she sat down, he was at her place. She immediately sent me this photo and we both read so much into it, from the placement to the ‘heavenly glow’ emanating from him. Both of us laughing, and knowing it wasn’t a coincidence he showed up.

This tiny, smiling, arms-outstretched Jesus is a reminder that even though we’re in the season of Lent and we’re remembering his dying and rising, he’s already done all that. He’s not doing it again. He’s risen and he’s present. Now. While we focus on repentance, we mustn’t forget to also feel joy. It’s possible to hold both.

After reading The Book of Joy and knowing I’d use its reflections for Lent, I found a little laughing Buddha to put within my Lenten prayer space. He seems to fit.

The first time I saw a laughing Buddha was ages ago at my Aunt Myrtle and Uncle Roy’s. She practiced yoga and Eastern meditation when it first became popular in the 60s, and her little Buddha was tucked on a corner table. Both she and my uncle embodied joy, Uncle Roy’s send-off ‘Have a happy!’ instead of goodbye.

The sun is streaming into my dining room, a pair of owls are having a raucous conversation in my woods. I hope your work week has started off as joyfully as mine. To help with that I leave you with this …

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Dewey

Dewey who?

Dewey we have to keep telling knock-knock jokes?

In my house, that would be a yes. Until next Monday, have a happy!