Daughter asks: Daddy, did mama tell Arthur to say he’s proud of me for getting my white belt in Kung Fu?
Little brother Arthur says: No, she didn’t.
I reply: I’m not surprised. Mama isn’t that sweet.
When my sweeter, funnier, 1st born twin, Singing Rose Matilda Kornbluth, who has my genetic makeup all over her face proclaims, Daddy, if Uncle John doesn’t show up to your funeral, I’m going to kill him, literally, I have to take some credit for nurturing such a supreme sweet daughter with dark humor maestro leanings of a female Jim Norton in the making.
I’m not dying, in case you’re wondering, although as a result of my steady use of concrete comedy language on my 7 about to turn 8 year old daughter, deltoids dawn strong, Matilda Rambling-on-Rose Kornbluth is more than familiar with the do or die verbiage embedded within the art of performing stand-up comedy or pitching jokes with the intent of ripping out a lasting stream of laughs long time.
For example, when I used to perform open mikes at local townie bars in northern Westchester Country, I started to develop a hot streak. Which annoyed Mommy, because whenever I’d come home, I’d emerge in our living room victorious. Filling up a room bigger than an IT nerd schlepping back from his Business Analyst job as an overpaid peon at a fabled hedge fund in Westport, CT.
Then, as usual, my opening address to my 2 kids before my lucky number 3 Samuel was born was: What did daddy do tonight?
And my kids would yell with effortless giddy delight: Daddy killed!
From there, I’d go in to bear hug my 2 biggest fans in the universe.
What I loved about being immersed in these “post kill circles of gene pool love” is how happy my children were for me to be doing the best version of me, my inner rock star. Under the April fresh scented embrace of my 2 kids hugging daddy with all their might, no mountaintop of comedic dominance feels out of sight.
I’m sure Matilda felt the same way when she was sandwiched between her 2 baby brothers at her white belt ceremony for Kung Fu, future ruckus rouser, graduation class.
The other parents in attendance couldn’t help but vicariously derive good vibration vibes rolling off our circle of love; this moment was a direct result, of effortless love. Effortless love is given with flowing grace because it emanates from a heart full of wonders, an age of innocence delight. Effortless love never feels strained or hard-sold into because effortless love knows no ego.
Effortless love gives the best of your heart’s love for goodness sake.
Effortless love is the only real kind of love because it doesn’t expect anything in return.
Effortless love is the biggest deal imaginable. Effortless love trumps all and it makes this do-it-all Dad feel like the most star-powered comedian in the universe.
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