Before the birth of my child, Esther, my friends with kids used to always talk about how hard parenting was. I knew it was hard, but I felt like they were being dramatic. My view changed drastically when I had my daughter.
The first month with Esther could only be described as a perfect mix of joy and stress. She would cry most nights, and you couldn't even get angry because her face took away those emotions. But after a few years now, I've settled into my role as a parent and accepted that my life henceforth is a parade of humorous chaos.
Esther has a knack for creating some hilarious and memorable moments that would make even the comedy greats green with envy. She's a disruptor, and she's proud of it.
One day, during the pandemic, I was attending a very serious meeting through video conference with some higher-ups at my company. I was trying to look professional with my white long-sleeve shirt, tie, and... wait for it... my underwear. The meeting started well, and I thought it would go on that way, but Esther had other plans.
She had been playing quietly in the background, writing on her cardboard, so I paid her no mind. But as I was explaining some design choices, I noticed in the corner of my screen a cardboard sign that said... "poop." Esther was dawning a notorious grin on her face, waving her cardboard proudly for everyone to see.
I held back my initial laughter, with a feeling of embarrassment and amusement. Luckily, the way the video layout was set up, my face was reduced to a small square in the corner of my screen, so the "poop" sign didn't stand out and wasn't visible to most. But Esther was trying to get closer to the camera with the sign when I jumped to collect it from her hand and move her away.
In the middle of moving her, I realized that I had just shown my briefs to everyone on the call. Everyone, even the higher-ups, burst into laughter. That seemed to be comic relief for the meeting, as most people revealed they were in their underwear too.
I apologized profusely to the rest of the meeting attendees, but the damage had already been done. Esther's escapades had reached a new level.
Esthers escapades also reach her mom. One time, Esther burst into our room wearing her mom's bra as a makeshift superhero mask. Her mom was in the middle of a meeting too, but Esther didn't care. She was determined to disrupt all the meetings in the house, and she succeeded with flying colors.
Esther's escapades have taught me that in the realm of parenting, laughter truly is the best way to navigate the unpredictable and sometimes downright absurd moments that come our way.
Here are some more humorous and memorable moments that Esther has created:
She tried to flush her baby brother down the toilet (don't worry, he was fine).
She gave herself a haircut with a pair of safety scissors.
She ate a whole roll of toilet paper.
She painted the dog blue.
When asked why her school notes were empty, the student said she writes after her teacher and erases what she wrote when the teacher cleans the board.
Esther is a true disruptor, but she's my disruptor, and I love her for it. She brings laughter into our lives every day, even when she's driving us crazy.
I know that as she gets older, her escapades will likely become more complex and elaborate. But I'm not worried. I'm confident that my ability to laugh at her antics will only grow stronger with time.
After all, laughter is the best medicine. And Esther is my biggest prescription.
