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| DYS-IS-FUN FAMILY MEMORIES |
Creating JOY memories is so vital and something much lacking in most families today. We have so many in
our family, we’re almost dysfunctional in the area of fun. I wanted my son to know joy and laughter, and
have good memories of our family. As a former single mother, I refused to raise a son who was a statistic, i.
e., most boys raised by the mother alone usually end up dysfunctional and in trouble later in life. Crock.
My son was 11 when my husband married us and adopted him. About 9 months into the marriage, we went
to a believer’s convention in Texas and stayed in a room with one of those little refrigerators. At that time,
my son was so in love with chicken strips, he ordered them everywhere we ate. One evening, he wasn’t able
to finish his strips so he asked for a to-go box. He lovingly put his box in the refrigerator when we got back
to the hotel. The next morning, he opened the door to the fridge and lo and behold, his chicken strips had
disappeared.
It is hard to describe the look of agony and betrayal on Josh’s face when he discovered his dad had eaten
his chicken strips. You know how it is; you have your mouth all set to eat something you really wanted and it’
s … gone.
Now my husband felt badly because he just didn’t understand the concept of leftovers at the time. He hates
taking food home; he’d prefer to just leave it on the plate. To his Engineering mind, he’d done nothing
wrong. I know, I know - it IS hard to believe such an intelligent man thought that when dealing with an 11
year old. What can I say? It was a shocking revelation to me, too, and a sign the honeymoon bubble might
be losing its air (it wasn’t).
BUT to save the day, he immediately invented the “3-Minute Rule.” He explained to Josh that the 3-minute
rule had kicked in and all food was fair game. The rule was that any food left alone for three minutes
became the property of anyone who came across it sitting there. It created a heated discussion and much
laughter that day.
Silly, I know, but that one little moment of brilliance - inventing the 3-minute rule - was the basis of much joy
and laughter throughout the rest of Josh’s time living at home. Of course it was also the basis of many loud
vocal, “You ate my WHAT? I wasn’t finished with it yet. I can’t BELIEVE you did that. You KNOW I planned
to eat it. Don’t EVEN give me that 3-minute rule garbage” (that’s my voice there)!
Today Josh is 25 and STILL talks about those chicken strips. What could have just been a few moments of
hurt ended up being a memory implant into all our lives. Over the years, he’s managed to get even a few
times but not in the food area. Hubby is a bit too wily to be caught out in that area.
The moment the 3-minute rule was invented, a precedence was set in our family that what you don’t laugh at
can get you hurt - just wait until I tell you about the time hubby told me Jesus ate my cashews. Yes, he really
did! But that’s another ramble.
I hope this has triggered some joy memories of your own and you also had a good chuckle.
Copyright © 2008 Nan C Loyd
All rights reserved. Used by permission.
our family, we’re almost dysfunctional in the area of fun. I wanted my son to know joy and laughter, and
have good memories of our family. As a former single mother, I refused to raise a son who was a statistic, i.
e., most boys raised by the mother alone usually end up dysfunctional and in trouble later in life. Crock.
My son was 11 when my husband married us and adopted him. About 9 months into the marriage, we went
to a believer’s convention in Texas and stayed in a room with one of those little refrigerators. At that time,
my son was so in love with chicken strips, he ordered them everywhere we ate. One evening, he wasn’t able
to finish his strips so he asked for a to-go box. He lovingly put his box in the refrigerator when we got back
to the hotel. The next morning, he opened the door to the fridge and lo and behold, his chicken strips had
disappeared.
It is hard to describe the look of agony and betrayal on Josh’s face when he discovered his dad had eaten
his chicken strips. You know how it is; you have your mouth all set to eat something you really wanted and it’
s … gone.
Now my husband felt badly because he just didn’t understand the concept of leftovers at the time. He hates
taking food home; he’d prefer to just leave it on the plate. To his Engineering mind, he’d done nothing
wrong. I know, I know - it IS hard to believe such an intelligent man thought that when dealing with an 11
year old. What can I say? It was a shocking revelation to me, too, and a sign the honeymoon bubble might
be losing its air (it wasn’t).
BUT to save the day, he immediately invented the “3-Minute Rule.” He explained to Josh that the 3-minute
rule had kicked in and all food was fair game. The rule was that any food left alone for three minutes
became the property of anyone who came across it sitting there. It created a heated discussion and much
laughter that day.
Silly, I know, but that one little moment of brilliance - inventing the 3-minute rule - was the basis of much joy
and laughter throughout the rest of Josh’s time living at home. Of course it was also the basis of many loud
vocal, “You ate my WHAT? I wasn’t finished with it yet. I can’t BELIEVE you did that. You KNOW I planned
to eat it. Don’t EVEN give me that 3-minute rule garbage” (that’s my voice there)!
Today Josh is 25 and STILL talks about those chicken strips. What could have just been a few moments of
hurt ended up being a memory implant into all our lives. Over the years, he’s managed to get even a few
times but not in the food area. Hubby is a bit too wily to be caught out in that area.
The moment the 3-minute rule was invented, a precedence was set in our family that what you don’t laugh at
can get you hurt - just wait until I tell you about the time hubby told me Jesus ate my cashews. Yes, he really
did! But that’s another ramble.
I hope this has triggered some joy memories of your own and you also had a good chuckle.
Copyright © 2008 Nan C Loyd
All rights reserved. Used by permission.
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