Douglas MacArthur was a man of routine—most military men are. So it shouldn’t surprise us that, when his son, Arthur, was born, he built a family life around routine. But unlike far too many parents who make routine a form of control, MacArthur’s morning routine began with a moment of joy. As William Manchester details in his book American Caesar, it was a kind of scheduled crazy fun: At about 7:30 A.M. the door of the General’s bedroom would open and the boy would trudge in clutching his favorite toy. . . . MacArthur would instantly bound out of bed and snap to attention. Then the General marched around the room in quickstep while his son counted cadence: “Boom! Boom! Boomity boom!” After they had passed the bed several times, the child would cover his eyes with his hands while MacArthur produced the day’s present: a piece of candy, perhaps, or a crayon, or a coloring book. The ritual would end in the bathroom, where MacArthur would shave while Arthur watched and both sang duets.
No one is too important or too busy to have some crazy time at home. No one is above getting pummeled by their kid in bed. No father should hesitate before singing at the top of his lungs while he shaves. These moments are the best moments. If they’re rare, you’re doing it wrong.
They should be regular, they should be routine.