For situations requiring immediate deployment of nonsense.
Every household should have one.
We have first-aid kits.
Toolboxes.
Sewing kits.
Emergency candles.
Flashlights.
Batteries.
That drawer containing seventeen mysterious cords belonging to devices nobody has owned since 2009.
But where is the box for an emergency shortage of ridiculousness?
Exactly.
This is a serious oversight.
Fortunately, we are trained professionals.*
We are absolutely not trained professionals.
😂
Nothing fancy.
A shoebox will do.
A tin.
A basket.
An old lunchbox.
A drawer.
A small suitcase if your household experiences unusually large joy emergencies.
Write on it:
EMERGENCY JOY KIT
Underneath:
OPEN WHEN EVERYONE HAS BECOME ENTIRELY TOO SERIOUS.
This is important.
Otherwise someone may mistake it for sensible storage.
That depends upon the household.
But the Haven Department of Questionable Preparedness recommends:
One pair of googly eyes.
A kazoo.
Sidewalk chalk.
A tiny bottle of bubbles.
A ridiculously small notebook.
Crayons.
A deck of cards.
A joke written on folded paper.
A photograph that reliably makes somebody laugh.
One magnificent sticker.
A paper crown.
A tiny bell.
A feather.
A marble.
A rubber duck.
A fortune cookie.
A packet of wildflower seeds.
And at least one object that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.
Preferably something that causes the person opening the box to say:
“Why is there a tiny plastic dinosaur in here?”
There should be no answer.
When a Joy Emergency has officially been declared, nobody is required to become happy.
This is critical.
We are not forcing cheerfulness.
Sometimes things are hard.
Sometimes people are sad.
Sometimes the day has simply been spectacularly annoying.
The Emergency Joy Kit is not here to tell anyone how they should feel.
It is simply offering the possibility that for five minutes—
something else may also be true.
You can be worried and blow bubbles.
You can be grieving and still laugh at something ridiculous.
You can be frustrated and wear the paper crown.
Human beings are wonderfully complicated that way.
Everyone gets paper.
Everyone draws someone else.
But there is one rule:
You may not look at the paper while drawing.
Look only at the person.
Draw their face.
Do not peek.
When everyone finishes—
reveal.
There is an excellent chance somebody's nose will be attached to their forehead.
Museum quality.
Sign it.
Date it.
Frame the worst one.
😂
Select an ordinary destination.
The refrigerator.
The mailbox.
The bathroom.
Walk there as though you are entering the most important diplomatic meeting of your career.
Back straight.
Solemn expression.
Measured steps.
Optional paper crown.
If another person asks what you are doing, reply:
“Official business.”
Continue walking.
Do not elaborate.
One person performs an ordinary task.
Loading the dishwasher.
Making toast.
Looking for socks.
Another person narrates it like an epic nature documentary.
“And here we observe the elusive adult human approaching the laundry basket.
Notice the hesitation.
The subject has discovered...
a sock without its mate.”
Pause dramatically.
“The search may take days.”
🤣
Every Emergency Joy Kit should contain—or have access to—one hat that nobody could possibly wear while remaining completely dignified.
The Hat has no explanation.
The Hat has no owner.
The Hat simply appears when required.
Bad day?
Hat.
Argument becoming unnecessarily serious?
Possibly Hat.
Burned dinner?
Definitely Hat.
Tuesday?
Tuesday has already endured enough.
Leave Tuesday alone.
🤣
Choose one song.
Not the coolest song.
Not the most sophisticated song.
The one that makes it nearly impossible not to move.
When circumstances require, play it.
Dance for the duration of one chorus.
Terrible dancing is strongly preferred.
Children may participate.
Dogs may become concerned.
Cats will judge you.
Proceed anyway.
This is where the kit becomes yours.
Perhaps your family has a phrase that always makes everyone laugh.
A photograph.
A voice.
A story.
A ridiculous game.
A song.
An object with history.
Something one of the children once said that has become family vocabulary.
Put those things in.
The best Emergency Joy Kits won't make complete sense to outsiders.
They aren't supposed to.
They are made from your particular recipe for delight.
The Emergency Joy Kit cannot fix everything.
It isn't supposed to.
It cannot undo bad news.
It cannot repair loss.
It cannot make a difficult situation disappear.
But perhaps that is precisely why it matters.
Because sometimes joy doesn't arrive after everything difficult has ended.
Sometimes it sneaks right into the middle.
Pulls up a chair.
Puts on a ridiculous hat.
And says:
“I know.
But I'm still here too.”
Well.
There it is.
Meaning.
We made it nearly to the end this time.
That's progress.
😂