Jumping for Joy

        There are few things in life that make me jump for joy.  Something that makes me want to jump for joy is the sight of my husband’s semi truck heading down the road toward home.  There are probably few wives out there that feel unbridled joy at the sight of their husbands especially if the new has worn off their marriage and the honeymoon is effectively over.   I hardly ever see mine, so when I do it is usually a long anticipated treat.  By the time he arrives, not only am I jumping for joy, I am more than ready to jump him.  Even after all these years I am still thrilled to have him home and still happy for the pleasure of his company.  

         If I walked out to the mailbox and actually discovered money instead of bills to pay, that would be a big reason to celebrate.  I have as much chance of finding a windfall in the mailbox as I do catching a fart in the wind with both hands and bottling it.    The shock of finding any real money might just be the end of me but you can bet I would be jumping for joy and may even attempt a cartwheel before falling flat on my a$$ in the front yard.  If the fall didn’t kill me, I would spend the next several minutes laughing my fool head off.

         When you are a kid, it doesn’t take much to make you jump for joy.  Hell, hotdogs for lunch could do it.  Kids are able to grasp joy a lot quicker than adults.  By the time you grow up you stop appreciating the simple pleasures in life like you once did.  You quit jumping for joy.  Stupid things that would have sent you into rapture as a kid like a double scoop of rocky road ice cream in a sugar cone on a hot day barely warrants a half smile and mumbled thank you as you age.  Seeing a sprinkler making its rotations makes most kids giddy, and they go completely ape $hit at the mere sight of bubbles.   They run around with silly smiles on their faces jumping up and down with joy in the attempt to catch them before they burst.  Forget that example, I am 44 and I still do that.

          The worse thing is that people expect the joy to evaporate as they get older.  Why is it that after a certain age you are not expected to feel or show unbridled pleasure?  People honestly look at you like you are three steps away from a strait jacket and the loony bin if you jump up and down in anticipation of a foot long ham and turkey sub from Subway with all the trimmings.  I have done it, and people laughed a little uncomfortably and started passing out some pretty crazy looks.  They don’t know whether to let it slide or run away.  Happiness and sheer joy tends to scare the living hell out of people.  To me, that is just SAD.  Fortunately, I was too happy at the thought of devouring said sandwich to care.   Where is it written that after you reach a certain age you have to act all pious and dignified?  

         I would much rather see people giggling and jumping up and down with sheer joy than crying or yelling obscenities at one another, or worse standing around looking as if they have a broom stuck up their a$$es and a piece of lemon in their mouths.  I would be more scared of the people intent on killing each other than someone so obviously happy they can’t control themselves.  Why not express our joy with the abandon of a child?  Why not be happy and laugh? Is that so terrible?  

          Some would argue as a person ages, the old grey mare isn’t what she used to be so why jump?  My back aches, my head hurts, my brain is tired, and I am just plain weary, so why jump?  I may just fall and break something important!!  I can’t!  I might break my a$$!  What would people think?  What would they say?  You don’t have to do twenty G0d awful jumping jacks, just a quick couple leaps into the air or prance around the yard like a fanciful unicorn or leap about like a pixie.  Jump for joy for the sake of it, if you can catch your breath, you might just laugh yourself silly until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.