Remember when you were, I dunno, 7 years old, and everything seemed to happen by magic? I used to think that the car knew where me and my family were going because of the blinker signals. I didn’t realize that my mom was making it happen. Or that if I opened the dishwasher door, a typhoon of hot, bubbly water would come raging out and flood my house. And no one knew how the refrigerator door light would turn on when you opened it, or even if it ever turned off. It seems that being a kid was the coolest thing that ever happened to me.
I’m not about to say, though, that I’ve grown up. In fact, I tend to appreciate childish things more now that I’m older and I can’t get my kidship back. Yes, I have a Nerf gun stashed in my underwear drawer. I believe in unicorns, and I’m terrified of the dark. Anything glow-in-the-dark is cool, and I love fake tattoos (especially glow-in-the-dark tattoos!). I dance around my house at any opportunity. And when I take bubble baths, I make a soap beard.
I LOVE being a kid. My imagination is my limit.
Love and Childhood,