The Joy of Self

Kids love their bodies. It's a part of childhood I'm envious of, and wish I could recapture. But the fact is, the media has gotten hold of me, filled me up with a bunch of unrealistic expectations, and sent me marching off in search of longer legs with the rest of the female population.

Kids bodies are just right! Being closer to "creation" kids seem to innately recognize their bodies as the gifts they are. And like every other gift, they set out immediately to try to break it.

A kid will climb a tree till there's no more hand holds. He'll do cartwheels in the grocery store, or stand on his head in the post office. He won't talk himself out of it because trees are high, or terrazzo is hard, or people might stare daggers at him. It's FUN! And what's a body FOR, anyhow, except to press its limits, (with the added perk of giving old Mom a coronary.)

You see, the primary difference between kids and adults is that kids put on a pair of skates with absolute, unfettered JOY. To them, skates promise speed, excitement, and freedom. We KNOW what skates promise the rest of us folks whose rubber bones have long-since petrified. One word: Co-Payment!

Another major difference between kids and adults is that kids think it's a great idea to jut their bellies out as far as they can go. I don't care about when they're allowed to vote or drive or serve our country, a kid "grows up" on the day he starts sucking it in like the rest of us!

This completely unselfconscious behavior can be really irritating to us grown-ups, mostly because we're not allowed to get away with this kind of stuff anymore. They're scratching and burping and picking unabashedly, and let me tell you, the power of suggestion can't be underestimated. Yet we hold back for decorum's sake, secretly wondering where, along the line, we lost our privileges.

Wouldn't it be great if we could throw a tantrum right there at the DMV? Okay, well that's a bad example. Lots of people do that. But my point is, I wonder if we'd all be just a little better adjusted if we let some of those feelings out once in a while?

Instead of limiting our emotions to our facial region, use ALL the available equipment! What the heck.

With kids, a frown simply won't do. Instead you've got a puddle of wretched writhing, heaving sobs, punctuated by trips to the refrigerator for a snack in the event that youth prevents full appreciation of the value of the "uncut scene."

Delight is equally dramatic, usually involving some subset of simple gymnastics, combined with accompanying vocalizations that the dog seems to pick up on, even if humans can't, and traditionally ending with something getting broken, whereupon we revert to the aforementioned heaving sobs.

Work with me, people!

Okay, well maybe not. You look ridiculous, you know. Grow up, why don't you?