Channeling my inner six-year old
It occurred to me just the other day that I’ve really only got a few years left of being cool. Soon enough, the fact that I can bust into a twirling jump rope on the playground or tell a killer knock-knock joke isn’t going to get me very far. It’ll probably happen about the same time that I am done changing diapers, cutting up food into very tiny pieces, scraping oatmeal off of the bottom of the kitchen table and reading books made of cardboard. And just about the time that I start celebrating my new found freedom from the rigors of raising young children, I’ll realize how very sweet it was and how very much I miss it. So this summer, when the children are all officially home from school and my house becomes a Mecca for popsicles and muddy footprints, I have decided to take it all in before it vanishes as quickly as a newly mopped floor. It ain’t gonna be easy. I know how I get wrapped up in my own agenda with simple little things that are a really big deal to me. Things like eating fr...