I’ve Been Really Trying.
One morning, while casually putting away the milk, Shane said, “I think the world would be a better place if everyone would just be nice to each other all the time. I don’t know why nobody’s thought of this sooner.”
This, I thought, is the reason Shane is so funny. I laughed aloud, then went on with my life.
Often, Shane is joking around – and often it is very funny. But other times, Shane will say something similarly hysterical.
Like we were listening to the radio and the song was listed as Happy Happy Birt – because that’s how much space was on the screen. I mentioned that it must be someone’s birthday, Shane said, “No, this song is just called Happy Happy Birt.”
And I laughed, then started singing along with the (very, very old) song: “Happy, happy birthday, Baby…”
And Shane said, quite surprised, “Oh, I actually thought the song was called Happy Happy Birt.” And – I think – he was serious.
But who can tell? Even I don’t always know when he’s being his jovial, funny self, and when he just doesn’t understand something.
Worse yet, I’ve been really trying to discern the difference, and I can’t.
I know that I didn’t do as well with Shane as I did with Dylan, at least with regard to answering questions. I spent ten years answering Dylan’s questions, to the very best of my ability, but somehow I just expected Shane to know things.
Shane was quieter, and didn’t ask as many questions. While he absorbed what was said, and calculated answers on his own, he didn’t bother asking for answers when he was confused. Sometimes he would give up on thinking about things because it didn’t matter to him all that much.
And as a result, sometimes he’s still confused.
Sometimes he doesn’t know the simplest things – what a screwdriver does, or why propping up your head makes it easier to breathe with a cold.
But sometimes he’s light-years ahead of where he should be, like when he was nine and told the whole tour bus how to say “how are you” in Chinese – when we were in China and nobody else knew. Or when he realizes that the key to world peace is to just be nice to one another.
And sometimes Shane’s so funny because he’s so brilliant.
But at any given moment, I don’t know when Shane is confused and when he’s brilliant. Most often, I think he’s incredibly funny. I laugh, and offend him, and then answer his question – whatever it may be.
But I don’t want to keep offending him. And I don’t want to let him down if he actually needs an answer. At his age, every question is a good one.
I keep trying. I just hope that, someday, I’ll be able to actually help.