When word got out of my son’s appendix operation (okay, I posted about it, after the fact, on Facebook), my favorite comment of all was by a dad friend, who I saw a week later at our sons’ first baseball game of the season. (Yes, Adam watched from the dugout). My friend said: “I was sorry to hear about his appendix, but I hope they didn’t also take out his sense of humor. That would be a real loss.” On that note, I’m tempted to post some of his “greatest hits.” But that will have to wait for another day.
Today I just want to say something nice about him.
I have this awful tendency to gauge my children’s well-being by the state of their academic performance. I know I’m not alone in this, but I have a bad case of it because when I was younger school kind of saved me, and good grades were an important part of my identity. Judging my children this way puts too much pressure on the overachiever (Elena) and the underachiever (Adam). But I’m learning, and I’m talking to them about it.
When my son was in the operating room, I thought about how much I love him—how lucky I feel to have him around—how much I enjoy his company, especially when we’re not at odds.
I’m pleased to report that the surgeon didn’t cut out his sense of humor.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at emessinger@manhattanmedia.com
