I’d like to take a moment of silence to honor a dear friend I lost today- my sanity.
I’m pretty sure I lost it between the cereal and candy aisles, but after much fruitless searching, I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t anywhere to be found.
And, before you point it out, I am fully aware that asking for a moment of silence here at Boystown is, well, a laugh, but I’m a big fan of lost causes.
Anyways, while there’s quite the possibility that it was stolen from me, my money is on the assumption that it fled in mortal dread the moment the shrieking began, so I probably won’t see it again. I’ve put together a few search parties and I’ve looked into advertising on milk cartons and billboards, but I’m pretty sure its no use. My sanity is long gone and will most likely never return. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop looking for it, but it just means that the longer its gone, the more I’ll cease to miss it as much.
Today will forever be burned into my mind, but I guess that’s the way it is for anyone who’s lost something so precious. What started out as a simple trip to the store ended in turmoil, chaos, loss, and sadness. The saying is true- you really never do fully appreciate something til its gone. I should have held onto it tighter, but you just never stop to think that the combined strength of an 11 year old, 5 year old, and a 1 year old could rip something so seemingly strong from its owner.
And, once torn away, that was it. It was gone. Maybe it had wanted to leave, I mean, it was able to hang on through Camo’s TODDLER years. TODDLER years. Camo. That’s not even willpower- that’s an act of God.
All I can figure is that my sanity stared into its cold, bleak, dark future that lied ahead- what, with Nicholas now at the walking/talking/ maiming/torturing stage and Camo hitting his pre-teens- and it simply… let go.
And I get that. If you don’t see hope, its hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Poor sanity. It must have been so scared.
So, in this moment, I will silently bid my old friend farewell. Apparently, the question of how many kids it takes to destroy a lightbulb has been answered.
The answer is 3. ESPECIALLY if they’re boys.