Welcome to the Funny Farm by Karen Scalf Linamen Page A

quality of our performance. He values sincerity over perfection. And he loves the givers more than he loves the gifts.
    I need to remind myself of this often. Maybe even daily. In fact, maybe I should write myself a note and tape it to my bathroom mirror. It could remind me that my Father loves my heartfelt gifts to him—not because my gifts are perfect, but because he loves me with a perfect love.
    I could ponder this each morning as I brush my teeth and wash my face.
    Not to mention as I curl my hair, a shiny new curling iron in each hand.

28

    We’re Definitely Getting Older . . . But Are We Getting Wiser?
    R ECENTLY A YOUNG MAN NAMED B AYLEN SHOWED ME his two front teeth. Or, rather, DIDN’T show me his two front teeth.
    Baylen just turned seven. There’s a gap in his smile that means he’s growing up. It also makes a neat place to stick a straw and drink Dr Pepper while his jaws are clamped shut. It also makes a neat window through which he can squeeze the tip of his tongue and gross out anyone who may be watching.
    Missing teeth are a welcome milestone of maturity.
    Well, they’re a welcome milestone of maturity when you’re seven. If you’re my age and older, they can mean gum disease and an artificial bridge. But when you’re seven, they’re way cool.
    Teenagers, on the other hand, have other rites of passage. Two days ago the teenaged daughter of one of my best friends got her tongue pierced. Among her age group, this is considered a brilliant thing to do.
    She called me the next morning, a note of desperation in her voice: “I need your advice. How should I tell my mom?”
    I don’t know why she called me. Maybe the fact that I’m the only grown-up she knows with a belly button ring had something to do with it. (Don’t ask, it’s a long story. Let me just say that I’m having my midlife crisis and it was far cheaper than a Ferrari.)
    So I tried to be helpful. Basically, I suggested she take this approach: “Mom, I did something you’re probably not going to like, but before I tell you what it is, I want you to know that keeping your trust and having a good relationship with you is really important to me, and that if you want me to undo what I’ve done, I will. All I ask is that, before you decide, you give me a chance to explain why I’d like to keep it.”
    I reminded Rachel that these couldn’t be empty words. I reminded her that her relationship with her folks SHOULD be far more valuable to her than a three-quarter-inch piece of metal in her tongue.
    Rachel had the talk with her mom. Amazingly, she still has her piercing. Of course, she’s temporarily living on chicken broth and ice cream and talking like Scooby Doo, but she still has the stud in her tongue.
    She sees it, as do her friends, as a sign of independence. But maybe the real sign of maturity is the fact that she was, indeed, willing to remove it so as not to offend her folks. She’s testing boundaries, but when push came to shove, she was willing to put relationships above personal expression.
    Either that or she really pulled one over on her mom and me.
    Other signs of maturity? How about the fact that when you’re my age and you have a birthday, you truly cannot have your cake and eat it too. This is because, in the time it takes everyone to finish singing “Happy Birthday,” the cake has sustained far too much smoke and fire damage to be edible.
    Other signs? I could also mention that my body’s going south—like the fact that my hair is leaving my scalp and showing up on my chin—but there’s enough material on THAT subject to fill an entire book, so I think I’ll save it for later.
    Spiritual growth is another matter. Those milestones don’t come automatically with the passing of the years. It’s possible to be a Christian of forty years and still have your baby teeth, so to speak. Possible to be a