So let us look for beauty and grace, for love and friendship, for that which is creative and birth-giving and soul-stretching. Let us dare to laugh at ourselves, healthy, affirmative laughter. Only when we take ourselves lightly can we take ourselves really seriously.

Madeleine L'Engle

A number of years ago we took our younger kids on a spring break trip to Chicago, which seemed to be a good idea at the time. We were dealing, however, with young teens combined with a great deal of walking through museums and the zoo and the streets seemingly filled with lots of other spring break families. There was also lots of whining and complaining and badly timed hunger and chippy attitudes. 

The trip was exhausting and soon I yearned for a break from Spring Break. 

We were four days into the trip before I noticed that I had been walking around the Windy City in white tennis shoes that did not match. And I did not care. In my exhaustion, I had a good laugh. At myself. 

The words “humor” and “humility” and “human” are derived from the same root word, “hummus,”  meaning “soil.” 

We are, in essence, made from the soil and if we can embrace that “humble” truth and all its implications, we can enjoy a bit of laughter at our own expense. 

My kids were happy to inform me that both of my pairs of white shoes were “dad shoes” that should never have been worn in public anyway, even if they matched. I had thought the shoes were a least a little “cool.” My kids thought they were walking jokes. 

So, I ditched both pairs of shoes upon returning home and bought some newer, updated, much “cooler” shoes. But as soon as I put them on my feet, the new shoes became "dad shoes" as well, almost magically, and I was informed that there was nothing cool about them. 

Fine, I say. Have a little laugh. I can take it. 

                                                                                                                             Scott Whisler