Laughing at ourselves a luxury not shared by all
PARENTHOOD is where dignity goes to die.
From the moment I birthed my first child, high on painkillers and cracking penis jokes to the doctor while I simultaneously vomited into a rubbish bin, I knew my days of decorum were numbered.
If you haven’t been pooped on, are you even a parent?
Fortunately for me, humiliation has long been a way of life.
Which is why, when I accidentally stuck chilli seeds up my nose last week, I not only approved of my son’s surreptitious filming of the aftermath, but I posted it on social media. At this stage of the game, I have no more dignity to lose – but plenty more followers to gain.
To explain, it was taco Tuesday and somehow I placed my phone in a pile of chopped chilli on the kitchen bench. Receiving a text, I then absent-mindedly scratched my nose (FYI a scratch, not a pick) and smeared the seeds on that tender skin.
When my nose began stinging, I did not investigate but instead scratched all the harder.
Five minutes later my head was on fire and I was facedown in a bowl of milk, literally breathing it in to soothe my singed sinuses.
All the while my son is filming from across the kitchen. No one else even raised an eyebrow, let alone a hand to help … they know that’s just how Mum rolls.
Even the dog is in on the undignified action. Two weeks ago he sniffed out an old box of (untouched) chocolate laxatives and ate the whole thing. Cardboard, foil wrapping and all. He scoffed down a few cold and flu tablets as well for good measure.
We had to rush him to the vet where he had his doggy tummy pumped – revealing not just medicinal wrappers but the shreds of a school sock, an ear plug and a cat toy.
He then had the hide to not only not feel ashamed, but sorry for himself, adopting a hangdog expression for the rest of the day.
Yet for all the dignity that I’ve literally flushed down the toilet, it’s an absolute luxury to be able to laugh about it.
These funny stories are just anecdotes (or Ann-ecdotes, if you will) to tell around the table (though preferably not while eating).
It’s easy to laugh at yourself when you have a roof over your head and food on the plate. We can joke that we lost our dignity, because our job, our house, our car, our pantry are proof that, really, we still have it in spades.
But for some, dignity is all they have left. And for others, even that is already gone.
For all the times my children have robbed me of my first-world dignity, I am so incredibly proud of their natural, unaffected empathy for those who do not get to live the same lucky life that we do.
I’m talking about our homeless. In fact, around our own dinner table, our family is talking about the homeless. Because it’s no longer a problem we can ignore.
In Surfers Paradise on Sunday, my children spotted a number of homeless people, sheltering in the cool morning beside public toilets, curled up under old blankets, with their bare, shoeless feet poking out the bottom.
Having travelled throughout the US, both kids know what homelessness is. They’ve just never seen it in their own hometown before.
As I tucked them into bed that night, both were extremely worried about what would happen to these people. And they wanted to know how they could help.
Fortunately, tomorrow I can show them.
If you want to get a glimpse of just how real this problem is, look no further than Metricon Stadium, where the annual Gold Coast Homeless Connect event will be held from 7am.
This one-day event connects our at-risk residents with the health, legal and financial services they need, as well as providing a safe space where they can access warm clothing, food, toiletries and even beauty services. It’s all about the dignity.
For the past few weeks, this event has been strongly supported not just by local organisations donating their time and money, but by families just like mine.
In fact, one group of parents at our school organised a fundraiser on a chilly Saturday evening where entry was via a donation of clothing and blankets. It’s an example of how easy it is to help when we really want to.
Despite that, with Homeless Connect now in its tenth year, no one expects this one-day event to fix the problems that cause homelessness. But it does help.
And it reminds us too that charity, unlike dignity, begins at home. Read Ann Wason Moore every Tuesday and Saturday in the