One thing I learned from yesterday's post and the ensuing comments is that Kids pretty much own the joys of:
*Running for pure pleasure
*Cannonballing into cold water on a hot day
*Playing dress up (without needing to shop for designer clothes and matching accessories.)
*Catching fireflies in jars
*Skipping (tell the truth, when was the last time you saw an adult skip? Not that I'd particularly want to see it, but still...)
*Playing make-believe and having no one question whether you plagiarized the characters or the dialogue.
*Putting on a real baseball uniform and having your family watch you play--not because you're a superstar, just because it's fun.
And what do we adults get in return for the time we've put in on this planet:
*The right to go to a bar and pay five bucks for a watery beer anytime we want.
*The right to sprawl on the couch in front of the TV at the end of the day--at least, as long as none of the kids' shows are on.
*Credit cards! That's right, we can go into the store and buy anything we want, kids. So there. Bet you'd like to try that one.
*Credit card bills. Oy vey. Apparently, if you can't afford it today, you're probably not going to be able to afford it tomorrow either? Who'd have thunk?
*Nagging phone calls from some very dogged folks employed by the credit card companies. Seems they want their money and they want it now.
*Caller I.D. Now we're talking.
*Ever mounting late fees and fines.
*Another trip to the bar for more watery beer where you can stare at another TV, and practice Scarlett O'Hara's philosophy: I'll think about it tomorrow.
*The chance to worry about global warming, distant wars, rising interest rates and lowering pay scales--and the increasing sense that you can't do much about it.
*All washed down with more watery beer on credit. What a deal!
No seriously, it's not that bad. I love being an adult. I don't have to eat my vegetables, if I don't want to. (The strange thing is, I do.) No one gets to be "the boss of me"--err, except of course, my boss. And no one ever tells me to clean my room. Now that I"m the mom, I get to clean all the rooms while everyone else is running, playing make-believe, and get this--laughing.
That's right. It seems that while no one was looking, the little buggers took control of laughter, too! According to this source, most kids find something worth laughing about more than 400 times a day while we adults manage only about fifteen grudging hee-haws in the same time period.
Well, this is where I draw the line. Today I'm going to walk around with a little notebook and put a mark in it every time I laugh--and I'm not going to stop till I reach 400. I'll laugh at the guy from the credit card company when he calls on the phone; and when someone dumps a back pack or a pair of socks or a half-eaten grilled cheese in the middle of the living room, I'll laugh at that, too.
I'll laugh at spilled milk and bad news that I can't do anything about.
I'll giggle about the characters who aren't cooperating in my latest novel, and my own reluctance to sit still and get the work done.
I'll laugh until the dogs bark back and the cats run for cover.
The only thing I won't do is tell knock-knock jokes. After all, we adults have our dignity.
(Oh crap, just noticed it's already noon, and I haven't laughed once yet. I've clearly got some serious laughing to do.)