If I ever doubt that God has a sense of humor, all I have to do is think about my son Brad. The very thought of my middle kid makes me know to the core of my being that God indeed must have a funny bone since I believe that Bradley, along with all the rest of humanity, is made in His image and likeness. And the thing about Brad is that he doesn't try to be funny, he just says and does things that although they seem normal or serious to him are actually quite hilarious to those of us on the outside of his creative brain looking in. Trust me, I could relate countless stories to back up my premise concerning my son, but in all fairness to you the reader and to Brad who is the fodder for this post, I've chosen one simple but eloquent example of the innate comedic nature of my son.
Those of you who read this blog regularly know that I originally hail from the hills of Tennessee, born and bred, as my Southern compatriots will completely understand. Almost every year for the last 20 plus years, we've traveled home to Tennessee to spend a week or so with family, and one of my children's favorite things to do while we were there was to visit my sister's farm just outside of town. It's a beautiful piece of property with rolling hills, two barns and a creek that runs on the back side of the land. Down through the years, my sister has had horses, cows, goats, ducks and cats on the farm ... at one point, she even thought about getting a couple of ostriches. She's like my dad when it comes to animals and farming ... she loves them both with all her heart.
On one particular visit home when it was just Brad and Meghann and me, one of my sister's goats had injured its foot and needed some ... as my sis would say ... some "homemade doctorin'" that involved Brad and Meghann attempting to hold the goat while my sister applied medicine and a bandage to the animal's wounded appendage. It only took one or two attempts for Meghann with the smelly, twisting, bucking beast for her to decide that she wanted no part of holding that crazy goat, and I must say, I agreed with her ... I wanted no part of it either. Brad and my sister, however, were of one mind about the process, and that goat stood no chance against the two of them. It took a few tries and a couple of tumbles in the dirt, but Brad eventually got the goat in a death grip and held on for his life while Sis did her doctoring. When it was over and Brad released the goat, with a look of pride on his beaming face, he shouted, "Look what I did! I wrangled me a goat ... yep, this city boy wrangled a goat!"
Now while watching Brad tussle with the goat was funny in and of itself, what he did a couple of months later in regard to his experience still causes me to chuckle even now several years later. Needing to obtain a new part-time job, Brad asked me to look over his resume for him before he began submitting it to potential employers. Brad's a great writer, but one line on his list of previous "jobs" made me laugh until tears rolled down my face. There, in black and white, were these words: "Experienced goat wrangler." When I suggested to Brad that he had really only sort of wrangled one goat in his entire life and that it might not be a sought-after job skill, he said with all the seriousness he could muster, "It doesn't matter, Mom ... I have experience wrangling a goat."
And that's been Brad's take on life from the time he was a little guy ... see the potential story in every event or circumstance you experience and tell that story in the best way you can. It's part of what makes him a great filmmaker. It's part of what makes him a great son, a great friend, a great man. And it's definitely what makes him an experienced goat wrangler.
Love you, kiddo ... thanks for all the times you've made me smile.
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