Can you locate the lizard lolling on the books decorating the fireplace mantel? It only took me two days! I laughed when I spotted the languid (rubber) creature staring at me. Grandchildren were here.

We have travelled to faraway places in warmer climes and occasionally been startled to see small geckos scampering across the bedroom wall. They’re not my favourite roommates, but the lizard resting on my books was funny rather than unsettling. The reptile’s inability to breathe reduced the ick factor by a few notches. It took two days to notice the decorative addition and another two to track down the prankster. We had discounted the perpetrator because we didn’t think he could reach. Did you know children can lengthen their limbs at will when it suits their purposes? We had a good chuckle when, with a satisfied grin on his impish face, one of our grandsons finally fessed up.

Humour has always been part of our family life. Decades ago, when my husband and I met, we instantly connected when something odd struck us as funny. There have been times in the years since when making eye contact would have been disastrous. It’s astonishing that I ever learned to adult enough to raise children! But children did come along, and they opened even more doors for fun.

Now, laughter rings out when our family is together—and it’s frequently at my expense. When we decided to have kids, it didn’t occur to me that I would become the brunt of jokes until I breathed my last breath. But then, I did have a mother…

For instance, I love peaches, but I detest their fuzzy skin. For years, while eating fresh peaches, our son has said, “Hey, Mom!” I look. Every. Single. Time. As soon as I glance in his direction, he licks the peach fuzz. My revulsion is immediate, and my reaction is the payoff he’s seeking. This “tradition” continues annually during peach season, and grandchildren eagerly await their grandmother’s discomfort. But it doesn’t end there. They pull out this cherished memory regularly and remind me of it. And so, I relive it. Every. Single. Time. And yes, it makes me laugh.

Recently, our kind, loving daughter jokingly threatened to do something hilarious, which she knew would greatly embarrass me. Unfortunately, I had unwittingly provided the raw material. I shared her threat with a friend who understood the context and knows our children and me well. After laughing, she sagely commented, “Don’t let your children write your obituary.”

And now, the next generation is catching up. When the grandchildren were younger, we laughed at the things they said. Once, I asked a four-year-old grandson what he wanted to put on the pizza we were creating. His answer was “Bear Paws.” For the uninitiated, Bear Paws are cookies. That is why four-year-olds don’t operate restaurants.

But now, we’re beginning to chuckle with the older grands rather than merely at what they say. Although seeing them joining the hilarity is delightful, I feel a little trepidation. Last week, it was the lolling lizard, and our reaction was so rewarding that I’m sure we’ll find surprises in unexpected places for some time to come. But why stop at Locate the Lizard? After all, Grandma is an easy target, and they’ve had lots of exposure to jokes at her expense from their kind, loving parents!

My prankster grandson also informed me (after I wrote the story) that the creature that prompted it all is not a lizard!

Life can be serious, and humour is a balm that can soothe us during rough patches. My grammar checker wanted to replace “balm” with “bomb!” It’s therapeutic to revisit memories that lighten our hearts on days when life isn’t so funny.

As I launch this article, I fear sharing it might open the door to untold misery during peach season. Please, I beg you—be kind to the fuzz-challenged!