TOPIC: What is your least favorite thing about being a grown up?
Man, I had a hard time thinking of only one thing. The first things that came to mind were taxes, mortgages, emotional constipation...but I think my least favorite thing is my lost ability to turn nothing into something. Do you remember when you were little and your imagination knew no bounds?
We used to play in a dirt hill at the end of our street. That dirt hill had endless possibilities, from a war zone to a castle for princesses, complete with thrones made from hand shovels. As a child, those thrones were impressive and we spent hours and hours carving them out of the hillside, each one custom fit our little derrieres. If we sat in our designated throne and it had lumps, we meticulously smoothed it out with our shovels. By the time we were finished creating, we had the whole dirtside carved into rooms, thrones, tables, beds, etc., etc., etc. Oh, we were so proud of our elaborate handiwork!
The other day Gavin was asking me if I remembered the big dirt pile we had in our backyard last year. He was wanting me to remember when he made a throne in the side and played "King". He was describing to me this wondrous thing and I did remember it, but not the way he did. I remember a vague impression in the side of the pile and, well, that's about it. Then, sadly, it occured to me that perhaps the memory of my cherished dirtside was a little skewed too.
I'll bet if I could go back as an adult, I would find barely noticeable notches in the dirt. What I used to think was an enormous lenth of brown heaven, would probably only be 6 feet long. And all that time we spent working on it...maybe 30 minutes at a time (we all know kids' attention spans aren't HOURS long! If only...)
Being an adult takes the fun out of so many things. If I only could once again make something out of nothing, life would be a lot more entertaining.
Man, I had a hard time thinking of only one thing. The first things that came to mind were taxes, mortgages, emotional constipation...but I think my least favorite thing is my lost ability to turn nothing into something. Do you remember when you were little and your imagination knew no bounds?
We used to play in a dirt hill at the end of our street. That dirt hill had endless possibilities, from a war zone to a castle for princesses, complete with thrones made from hand shovels. As a child, those thrones were impressive and we spent hours and hours carving them out of the hillside, each one custom fit our little derrieres. If we sat in our designated throne and it had lumps, we meticulously smoothed it out with our shovels. By the time we were finished creating, we had the whole dirtside carved into rooms, thrones, tables, beds, etc., etc., etc. Oh, we were so proud of our elaborate handiwork!
The other day Gavin was asking me if I remembered the big dirt pile we had in our backyard last year. He was wanting me to remember when he made a throne in the side and played "King". He was describing to me this wondrous thing and I did remember it, but not the way he did. I remember a vague impression in the side of the pile and, well, that's about it. Then, sadly, it occured to me that perhaps the memory of my cherished dirtside was a little skewed too.
I'll bet if I could go back as an adult, I would find barely noticeable notches in the dirt. What I used to think was an enormous lenth of brown heaven, would probably only be 6 feet long. And all that time we spent working on it...maybe 30 minutes at a time (we all know kids' attention spans aren't HOURS long! If only...)
Being an adult takes the fun out of so many things. If I only could once again make something out of nothing, life would be a lot more entertaining.
8 comments:
The very definition of FFA: Making something out of nothing.
I miss the days of not caring about being a filthy mess from playing in the dirt pile...
So true!
I think I would be a better mom if I let my kids get MESSY more often!
My least favorite thing about being a grown up is all the responsibility, and all the money that that takes! I miss the days when I was ignorant to the cost of living!
Man, these posts are really making me feel nostalgic! Did you ever make mud pies? I think we used to spend hours (okay, maybe just 30 minutes) just softly patting those things because they felt so cool.
I'm with you guys -- I miss not caring about getting dirty, too.
Oh the good ol' days. Do you remeber the space ship in the backyard before it was landscaped? Or better yet Corianas fort out of our weeds?
Well, I don't know about YOU guys, but I'm a farm girl and am far more comfortable with dirt on my pants than I am otherwise!! ;o)
These things are all so true, though. When I was a kid (before we "bought the farm" ha ha) and lived in a city, my sister and I set up a stand and sold rocks. We thought they were the most gorgeous things ever and had no idea why nobody wanted to buy them!
I think of the hours I spent playing jumprope and jacks. Or sitting in a tree, and a fresh pile of dirt...true adventure. Playing Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn on a "raft" on a "pond" on the other side of the school yard fence. Childhood imaginations were the best adventures.
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