A friend and I were having a casual coffee with an egg blended into it; a normal afternoon. Over her shoulder and into the kitchen I could see my youngest son wildly grab an egg and fling it into the air. The appropriate reaction is usually “What the fuck!?!?!?”. Because such a thing as throwing eggs is very intense. I stared at him doing this and wondered why and what would compel a person to do such a thing. The next egg went up and came crashing down onto the kitchen floor and then a third. He danced his body over in my direction and I managed to say without any emotion “why are you doing that?”. I mean, I really was curious… why was he throwing eggs?
I quickly investigated my own distant childhood to gain some perspective. I could not remember ever thinking “I want to be an asshole!” Not when I dumped gravy onto the carpet or when I cut up our only family pictures. I wanted to explore and create and do stuff. I really just wanted to do cool stuff.
So, Emmett tells me he’s making eggs on the floor. I guess that makes sense. How can one know what is possible without exploring it? Turns out that eggs can’t be made on the floor… Yet. Not with just linoleum and a wild ambition.
Emmett proceeded to grab clean and pristine towels and “clean up” the egg. I take a deep breath because his desire is so sweet. I’m quite touched by his attempt. I wonder how much the simple act of deep breathing can change ones life. Profoundly, I imagine. Deep and dramatic breathing has prevented me from my own angry reactions millions of times, a day. So, my greatest mission as a parent? It’s really just to get over myself and to see the deeper meaning in things. People really are curious by nature. We want to do cool things. Maybe next time, I’ll try throwing some eggs myself.