In last week’s blog (the first weekend of spring break), I wrote about the life lessons my girls were teaching me while my wife was visiting a friend in Boston. (Read it here: Life Lessons from My Girls). But the lessons continued when my other girl–my wife–got home.

People will pay $70+ a ticket to hear Jim Gaffigan for 90 minutes. Others will pay more for silliness. Why? Because silliness carries value in our lives. It allows us a break to be more productive on the other side.

As for me, I’m fortunate. I don’t have to pay a thing for this all-important characteristic.

Truth is: I often take myself too seriously. I find myself working too many hours and thinking of my job as a sprint (and, yes, I’m glad I do see it as that sometimes. I am certainly NOT belittling the importance of my job as an educator). During my normal hours, my everyday life, silly is not my thing. I smile a lot–and even laugh. But that’s not silly. I need reminders to be silly–to laugh and chuckle. To roll on the floor laughing–kicking and screaming because the tickle torture I’m receiving has gone on too long. To be startled and scream like my five-year-old self when my girls–yes, including the 37-year-old one–jump out from around the corner. I need that from them because I don’t produce it enough in myself.

The value? I get to be a kid. And smile more broadly. And laugh more loudly. And–eventually–embrace more passionately. And breathe more freely.

It’s silliness that allows me to work harder and make a bigger difference in the world.

It’s because of the silliness I received over spring break from all of my girls that I am now ready for the final push of the school year.