Everyone can remember at least a few [great] things about childhood.
Maybe it was sitting outside on Turkey Day Eve waiting for the big moment when your dad was going to put the Turkey in the backyard under ground pit.
Maybe it was playing Barbie’s and dreaming of meeting Michael Jackson.
Or maybe it was watching football and WWF on Sunday nights from inside a fort in the family room.
It might even be running at lightening speed (it seemed) in your new pair of shoes.
Or it could be as simple as the saying your sister said every night before bed.
Or
. . . . the way your dad called you a “rat” and it made you giggle.
. . . . maybe it’s squirting pudding through the gaps in your teeth.
. . . . milk out your nose.
. . . . cupcakes.
. . . . a birthday cake [in the face].
. . . . just birthday's all together.
. . . . Being able to yell for your mom at 1,3 or 4am knowing she‘d be right by your side within seconds.
Or maybe not.
Maybe you can't remember many of those things about being a child.
Maybe all you can remember is the feeling.
Freedom. Carelessness. Adventure.
Imagination.
Playing so hard that you were exhausted by dinner time.
Forgiving so e a s i l y.
Loving so much.
Think back.
Don't look at your cell phone.
Wait to respond to that email.
And think. Yes, I know it’s hard. Thanks to Kelly. I tried it Friday night to Saturday night. [going “unplugged"] Yep, I failed. But I will attempt again. If it’s only one day a week “unplugged”. It’ll be worth it.
[Anyone see modern family last night? Bar soap -- cell phone anyone?]
I Remember.
I Cherish.
I want nothing more than Peanut to have the same feelings about her childhood that I have of mine. And I don’t recall my mom/dad being on the phone, emailing, texting, putting any “work” over/before family.
WELLLLLLLLLLLLL, the one time my mom did, I cried and she ate the chicken I made her for dinner. Right. Then. ;) [remember that Mom?!]
I want that feeling more often.
When someone did something you didn't like, you reacted.
But you forgave. You said you were sorry and it was over. Like over - over.
You laughed as long, hard and as loud as you wanted. Because it was funny. It was that funny. It didn’t matter if anyone else thought it was. You laughed until your stomach hurt and you didn't even think it being a great abs workout.
When it hurt. You cried. Because it hurt. Because you were sad. And you let everyone see. Because it was okay to be sad sometimes.
And you said "I love you" as often as you blinked.
Because you were a kid. And that is just what kid's do.
Then, we grew up.
The world got bigger. And we may not look like a kid, or live like a kid. But that doesn't mean we can't still feel like a kid.
So last night I had a dance party with Peanut. And one very cool jukebox. The timing was bad. It was late. I wasn't in the best of mood from the evening events leading to 7:30pm.
Until. . . we began dancing.
And laughed . . Like kids.
And danced . . Like kids.
And acted . . Like kids.
And it was wonderful.
Because it was fun & also very funny.
And it‘s great being a
[This was the song that started all the fun last night]
enjoy.
