You Can’t Always be Sane, My Son Said
Dear me,
I am done writing anything but comedy. Tragedy and realism are not as fun as comedy. This will be my last realistic piece without humor — unless I change my mind — which could happen.
This weekend threw me off. I was distracted by feeling like a loser, and I couldn’t be in the moment, My son, who is less crazy than my husband or me, said we should talk about it. He is unburdened and always has sage advice.
I know it sounds like I treat him like a little adult, but I don’t. He’s an only child who talks to grownups a lot — and his emotional intelligence is the sum of my husband’s and my own.
This weekend, when I was feeling awful, my son said, “Mom, you can’t always be sane.”
“Man,” I said, “you must have a pretty smart mother. “
He indulged me. “Yes,” he said. “I do.”
“Who told you you didn’t always have to be sane?” I asked, wondering if he’d heard it on YouTube or TikTok. I couldn’t remember saying it and didn’t recall knowing it.
“I said saint, mom. You don’t always have to be a saint.”
I laughed. I was never under the delusion I was a saint. I did, however, think I was supposed to be sane.
