My Canary Has Diarrhea

I love my dad.  I know that's probably the most obvious statement ever, but it's the most straightforward way I know how to say it.  I love my dad.  And, in honor of Father's Day, I am going to share one of my father's favorite stories with you.

One of the best things about growing up with this guy for a dad is the fact that he is a remarkable story-teller.  It's one of the many things that made him one of the most beloved teachers in our high school.  I am going to attempt to tell you the story of the canary with diarrhea, which is one of the stories I heard most often growing up. 

Okay - my best attempt at retelling:

There was once a man who was very proud of his front yard.  He purchased a brand new lawn mower and brought it home.  He cleaned it, polished it, and proudly displayed it to his neighbors.  One day, after he had finished putting the lawn mower to use, his neighbor called over the fence,

"Hey there!  That sure is a good lawn mower.  Mind if I borrow it some time?"  The man nodded.  "Sure! Sometime, but not today. Looks like your grass is too long." 

A week or so later, the neighbor saw the man mowing his lawn again, and again asked to use the mower.  "Nah, your grass is too wet." 

Another week went by and the neighbor again asked the man to borrow the mower.  "Nah," he said, "My canary has diarrhea."

As you might imagine, the neighbor was a bit frustrated.  "Look, I understood when my grass was too long.  I understood when my grass was too wet.  But what does your canary having diarrhea have to do with me borrowing your lawn mower?"

The neighbor replied, "Well, nothing.  But the truth is, I don't want you to borrow my lawn mower, and at this point, any excuse will do."

Any excuse will do. Whenever I was being lazy, or didn't want to do something, Dad would, without looking up from his book or his newspaper, raise his eyebrows and say, "Sounds like your canary has diarrhea," and then nonchalantly turn the page.  Infuriating, but effective.  I still hear it, even though he doesn't say it much anymore.

I've thought about this story a lot lately.  How often do I say no to things - good things, things I should be doing - Because I am lazy?  Because it's out of my comfort zone?  Because I am fearful?  Because I am weak?  Because I am selfish?  Because my canary has diarrhea???

Often.  Too often.  I want to be a "YES" person.  I don't want excuses to stop me.  I want to be someone who is up for anything and willing to help out, or get dirty, or step out of my comfort zone.

And as it turns out, I have an opportunity to do this tomorrow morning.  Details to come...