The Case for Zaniness
Using laughter to assuage the sadness of divorce

What in the world? Pulling into my driveway after a business trip, I was shocked to discover brightly colored girls' undergarments dangling from the tree branches. Mortified, I marched up the front steps, determined to "get to the bottom" of this latest antic.
Stepping inside, I was met with a downpour of foil confetti rigged on a crude pulley system over the doorframe. Taped to the walls were balloons and homemade signs: Welcome home, Mom. We're proud of you. You're the best!
Finally, the responsible parties, my two daughters, 11 and 8, jumped out of hiding and bowled me over with a bear hug. "We wanted to do something special to surprise you!" Suddenly, the display outside made perfect sense.
A few years earlier, during the process of my divorce, I began scheming crazy ideas to offset the sadness in our lives. I wanted my kids to feel loved and to have laugh-worthy ideas and stories to share with their kids someday. I'd often preface these zany events with, "I have a special surprise for you!"
Now, contemplating the "Fruit of the Loom" flags waving at my conservative community, I thought about the times I'd humiliated them for the sake of a special memory. Like the time we kept inhaling mustache fibers throughout dinner at a local restaurant because I made them wear Groucho Marx glasses. Or the time I crashed lunch at their grade school, sporting full clown attire, to hang out with all the kids. One daughter thought it was hilariously cute; the other pretended she had no idea who I was.
The fun carried into creative discipline tactics. One daughter could never remember to pick up her clothes from the bathroom floor, so I commissioned a family member as a highway patrolman to leave her an official ticket.
I guess all those crazy ideas made an impression. A few years later, my daughters gave me a bag of trinkets for Christmas — Groucho Marx glasses, a clown nose, underwear and many other items — to remind me of the memories we've made together through the years.
It's the best gift I've ever received.