“What you need to do is to have some fun,” a therapist friend of mine told me last month. I wasn’t there as his client, but I could be, if that sort of conversation continues. You see, I’d just had what I call “fun”, in visiting with him. He’s funny, he listens to me, he has interesting things to say,
phone calls weren’t for me, no terrorists attacked, no child was sticking a bean up its nose, and there were no sirened-vehicles involved. What elicited comment was my complaining (well we all have feet of clay), about fact that my house hasn’t sold. I take exception to this sort of response – “go have some fun” – for three reasons: #1, my “having fun” is not going to help my house get sold, #2, who’s in charge of defining word “fun”? #3, it implies I am not at that moment “having fun,” which, sadly, leaves me to suspect that my companion-of-the-moment is not.
YOU SAY ‘TOMATO’ I SAY ‘TOMATO’
It happened again last week. I had a nice long talk with a good friend on phone, which I enjoyed tremendously, and then as we got ready to hang up, she changed her tone of voice completely and said, “And let’s get together and have some FUN.”
I chuckled to myself, with my warm tummy and feel-good feelings. I had just HAD fun.
Am I only one so easily pleased?
SOMEONE ELSE’S IDEA OF FUN
“The dreaded ‘Let’s go have some fun’ statement,” I call it.
Please, please don’t drag me to a smoke-filled bar where everyone’s drunk, or force me to stand in line an hour to ride some 5-minute ride at amusement park, or drive around a half hour looking for a parking place in 100 degree heat, to then walk 1 mile to get to Festival du Jour. These are not “fun” for me.
Having fun is an important part of any wellness regime and good life, but it’s been defined, I fear, by people other than myself. I hear this from clients as well, who’ve been told by their therapists and coaches to take a vacation, get a massage, go dancing, or go white-water rafting.
I think of person who told me, when I was a working single-parent with two boys expressing fatigue and blahs, to go on a vacation, go have some fun. “All of you.”
Now, if you’ve been a single parent with two kids, you will know that while a family vacation is enjoyable, it is not prescription for a tired, overwhelmed single working mother. Or are your kids and your family vacations different than mine?
One of last ones we took, I survived preparing for trip and usual travel hassles, made it to resort, dealt with lost reservations while kids fought because they were tired and hungry, grubbed up some food when we found restaurant closed, then finally got boys settled, plopped down in a lounge chair by pool and declared, “Let vacation begin!”
Five minutes later, boys arrived, and one of them had a fish hook through his thumb. 5 hours of blood, sweat and tears later, more tired than I’d been before, I declared, a bit less sure this time, “Let vacation begin?”
ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?
The other day my young friend Alberta invited me over. I work at home, and I’m sure it’s projection, but often someone will call me and say, “You need to get OUT. You need to have some FUN.” “Come on over,” she said. “We’ll have some FUN.”
So I went over to Alberta’s, for two hours of trying to talk around a screaming, nose-running, tantrum-throwing, stranger-hating two-year-old in a house that looked like a war zone and smelled like dirty diapers. I left a little early, not that it hadn’t been “fun.”
Just for heck of it, I looked up “fun” in dictionary, and now I see problem. Here it is:
Fun:
1. What provides amusement or enjoyment; specifically: playful often boisterous action or speech 2.A mood for finding or making amusement 3. Violent or excited activity or argument (“let a snake loose in classroom; then fun began”)
This is what I suspect and fear when most people tell me, “Let’s have some fun.” The snake loose in classroom sort of thing. That is not my idea of “fun”. And now I see why things in offices go way they do – someone considers “violent argument” to be “fun.” YIKES!!
Of course it depends upon what you’re leaving at home. A snake-in-a-classroom kind of experience could be preferable to say, a sick husband, a broken toilet, telemarketers on phone, Jehovah’s witnesses at door, news that Uncle Roy is coming to visit, two kids fighting, and a dog with diarrhea. Everything’s relative.
