Printed in Picayune Item (Nov 30, 2011) Satanic socks and a neurotic opossum It’s the small things; the day to day, minuscule tasks, joys, and pleasures that collectively make up our lives. It’s not the days of our lives but the moments of our lives. Not all little things come with joy because each day brings both aggravation and pleasure. Which do we focus on? Sure we need the big moments, such as the Monday night football game where the Saints play like a Stradivarius violin and we all go to bed dreaming of another run for the Super Bowl; but life doesnt offer these moments on a daily basis. I begin plundering this thought after noticing how excited my dog gets over the smallest things. Shouldnt we do the same? What makes your tail wag? Through the eyes of Cody, my dog-child, I see that it’s little things that bring extreme tail wagging throughout the day. It’s little pleasures like either bacon flavored napkins, a back scratch from a friendly human hand or someone to throw his monkey. Of course the neurotic opossum in the back yard a few nights ago registered a big charge of fun as it fainted (known as playing dead) which allowed Cody the pleasure of barking at the laid out ball of fur. The opossum did not acknowledge how the excited dog taunted him, lunging and barking aggressively, but Cody relished the doggie high. For Cody, those encounters rarely come on a daily basis. He only stares at the cats from the window as they go by. That is his daily pleasure, a cat sighting. He longs for the day another furry animal crosses his path within the confines of his territory. My own small pleasures come with the second cup of coffee after the bustle and hustle of hurdling children and husband out the door. I have my own paradise until I have to deal with the satanic socks. I hate socks. One day they will find me under a mountainous pile of male socks blowing spit bubbles and saying over and over, “It takes two to make a pair. Two socks that match make a pair.” Twenty pairs of my husband’s unmatched dress socks lay on my bed this week. Twenty. He likes to blame the dryer; I like to point out that the disappearance begins long before the dirty clothes bin. However, the evil boys’ socks, don’t just disappear, they turn up everywhere. They have appeared in the car, outside in the yard, in the couch, under the dinner table and once in the microwave. Don’t ask. We need to build up our joyful moments to combat the darker side of life.I am sure if at the end of the day we tally both good and the bad, the sum total can go either way. Sometimes you have to count the blessings even when they end up in the red. What brings you small joys? What makes a moment special? Forget the satanic socks today and dwell on the bacon flavor napkins. Life is a treasure, but you have to make a few scavenger hunts. Life is precious, even in small doses. Now, get that tail a waggin’.
Posted on: Mon, 18 Nov 2013 16:52:07 +0000
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