There’s something post-apocalyptic about January. Maybe it’s because Christmas is over. Maybe it’s because a new year is always a little bit scary. It stretches out toward the horizon, long and endless, full of unpredictable twists. Maybe it’s because summer and vacations and swimming pools seem so far away.
The weather is miserable. Usually. And when the weather is great — it’s been pretty great! — something still comes along to ruin it. Does any other state get pollen blizzards in January? Not like Florida. Gesundheit!
If you ask me, you could never have a BDE in January. You know … a BDE. Don’t you know what a BDE is? Best Day Ever. It’s kid-speak. Something they like to scream — in your ear! — when they’re really excited. BEST … DAY … EV-ERRRRR!
My 7-year-old did the other day when she came home from school. Actually, I didn’t hear it. Dads rarely do at first. For some reason they’re reserved for moms. They have to relay it on: “Ask your daughter about her best day ever.”
So I did. A Best Day Ever! I had to hear this.
But we dads have to pry it out. We have to work on a kid who sounds like a bored customer service rep: “Sir, you’re going to have to see my supervisor. I’m not authorized to give you that information.”
“Supervisor?!? What? You’re not going to tell me? It’s the Best Day Ever!”
“Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m on my coffee break. Union rules.”
And so I was literally spellbound. What’s the Best Day Ever? What’s the Best Day Ever? I was fascinated. I couldn’t wait to know. Did aliens land in the schoolyard and pass out palm-sized candy-making machines? Did she get into college … for free? Did someone announce Christmas is coming twice a year? Did the president sign a bill outlawing homework?
Had to be. Couldn’t just be big. It had to be super big, right? SUPER … BIG!
What was so monumental? So amazing?
Finally I got it out. Best Day Ever: A stunt bike rider came to her school. He did some cool tricks in the gym. He talked about bullies. Then he jumped over a teacher and an assistant principal.
“He jumped the bike OVER them!” she said, smiling and nodding her head. “BEST … DAY … EV-ERRRRR!”
And that’s what I love about a kid. It’s all relative. The Best Day Ever is the day right in front of you. You don’t ruminate over it endlessly. You don’t weigh it on a 10-point scale. “Nope, sorry. You fell two-tenths of percentage point short. Try again next year.”
That’s what we adults do. But not a kid. Heck, no. They just willy-nilly rubber stamp whatever strikes their fancy. “I saw a frog today. He was missing a foot and hopped sideways. Best Day Ev-errrr!”
Part of me always wants to explain it to this kid. To get her to understand. “Look, buster, you don’t get it. Every day can’t be ‘the best day ever.’ It’s a rule. I think it’s written in the Constitution. You need some crappy days. You need a lot of mediocre, so-so days. You can have a lot of great days, sure. But you have to ration the ‘Best Days Ever’ for something really big.”
“PSHAW!” says a kid. A BMX bike guy doing tricks? That’s it!
And why not? Why not dish them out willy-nilly, whenever the mood suits you? Whenever you feel like screaming, “BEST … DAY … EV-ERRRRR!”
When was the last time I had one of those? Certainly not in the middle of the week. And not in JANUARY!
Shoot, I’m pretty darn happy. I have great days all the time. But a BDE? Why is it we adults think they’re so scarce? Or need to be rationed? That we can’t find them in the little things? That if we use them too often we might run out or rupture the space time continuum or get fleas?
Kids say it all the time and they’re no worse for the wear. Best chicken nugget ever. Best tumble off the swing and near-death-experience ever. Best bathtub prune-y feet ever. Best hole in the sock ever.
There’s something to be said for that. Having one whenever it strikes you. Whenever you feel like screaming it. Even in post-apocalyptic January, with a light dusting of pollen in your hair. I hope a BMX bike dude comes to my school soon. I’m ready to scream “Best Day Ever,” too.