Must.... not... laugh...

I wasn't going to write about this originally, because it's about my son and he's in those awkward teen years. The last thing he needs is his dad making fun of him. That and being sent to school in a unicorn patterned tutu.

So I've decided I'll compromise and leave out the tutu and just tell the story.

Now, I will say, this wasn't his fault at all. He was just trying to help and a teen who desires to be helpful is a wonderful and rare thing. If anyone can be blamed it would be his sister.

It happened this morning as we were getting ready to leave for school and work.

Heather and my daughter, Jordyn, had just gone out the back door and had passed the gate when I saw Jordyn's backpack on the kitchen table. Justin was between me and the door so I told him, "Quick! Stop them before they go!"

He panicked for a second, pivoted and ran two steps – waBAM! – right into the sliding glass door. He was wobbling a bit and I asked if he was okay. He said, "Yeah..." so I ran out to catch Heather and Jordyn and I heard Heather ask as I opened the gate, "What was that?"

As soon as I said, "Justin ran into the door," while holding up the backpack I just started laughing.

I couldn't help it.

Then Heather and Jordyn were laughing.

Everyone was laughing except for Justin, for some reason.

I gave them the backpack, ran back inside – making sure I opened the door first – and found Justin sitting at the table with his head in his hands. I should probably point out that at 13 he's at least three inches taller than I am and a little heavy for his height so it's a miracle that he didn't go through the glass. That's what I was thinking when I asked again if he was okay. But it took me a few tries before I could ask without laughing. I think the laughter was caused by both relief that he wasn't broken and the image of him pancaking against the glass.

I felt horrible for laughing, but I couldn't help it.

I almost told him, "They say that comedy is tragedy that happens to someone else," but that wouldn't have helped much since he was the "someone else" at the time.

As it was I checked his pupils and felt the growing lump on his head, and reminded him that he wasn't the only person to walk into a sliding glass door. Heather and Derek's mom did it. I'm pretty sure I did too when I was a kid. It happens.

Have a great, accident free weekend everyone. And I WILL be illustrating "Mask" for Illustration Friday at some point. I can't let that one go by.