Saturday Laughter

This Saturday morning I woke to the sound of BAP BAP BAP BAP - the rhythmic rapping of our dog Sarah's long bony tail as it hits the cupboards. She is one of those optimistic old golden retriever types that believes in the inherent goodness of all human kind and appreciates any and all leftovers. Love that dog. Love her.


I roll over as much as I can pinned by three cats at the end of the bed to hear faint laughter, followed by a few thunks, thuds and and squeals. Next the house shaking sensation and sound of something or someone tumbling to the floor. Even with the laughter, I knew it was the sound of someone falling out of bed. Not good.

One thousand one
One thousand two
One thousand three
One thousand.....

Pause - now this is where my less than optimistic foster mother radar goes on high alert. I hold my breath, counting the seconds between the lightning strike and the crash of thunder.

In our house, experience tells me that the next sound I hear should be the ear splitting screams of disregulation, injustice, accusations, bitterness, suspicion, paranoia, anger, PTSD.... In other words: a whole big dose of UGLY to rain on whatever fun was being had....

The overwhelming reaction to the boys' unbridled fun is the impulse is to squelch it, control it, supervise it, manage it and generally intervene. The fear that someone will get "triggered" or "out of control" or that "disregulation will rule the day" looms in the back of my mind. I lay stiffly in bed - no longer enjoying the extra time of sleeping in.

So I wait and wait ....and the next sound I hear is laughter. Yes, laughter. For the next twenty minutes the house is filled with shrieks, squeals, giggles, slamming doors, laughter...loud racing footsteps moving through the house... But clearly, above all else, what I hear is the sounds of 3 boys being boys, and just having fun.

BWAP BWAP BWAP BWAP. Even more eager thwacking of the tail. Sarah is very very happy about something, and gratefully, so are we.