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Happens all the time.

"That's right! I remember now! His name is GAYMAN!!" I had to brace myself against the streetlight because I was laughing so hard. The more I thought about it, the funnier it got. "GAYMAN!? Let me think... Oh, right! I told you to come!" I couldn't help but snicker about it while we waited for the bus to arrive. And I couldn't help but giggle to myself on the bus. And I couldn't help but burst out laughing again on my way to work.

I mean, come on. That's hilarious.

I don't remember when I grew up, probably because I try so hard not to. I desperately don't want to accept the fact that I can't be eight forever. I remember when they took nap time away. Then they took snack time away. Then they took recess away. There was a time when I couldn't fathom spending my time anywhere besides the playground. Or not reading books for fun. Or spending my weekends working. And, yet, here I am. At work in my funny shirt and raggedy jeans, dragging my sneakers down the hall as I try to generate reports on the file conversions I've processed and import data to various programs in an efficient manner. I used to wonder about the names of the people who were staring at the same stars I was. Now I wonder how to export navigation data from GeoFrame. I used to watch the day pass by in the park. Then, from the window of a lecture hall.

I don't even have a window now.

Little kids are funny. They walk differently than we do. Not because they aren't in control of their bodies, it's more fundamental than that. They keep their bobbly little heads up, staring off in the distance. Their mouths are open and their little kid eyes are amazed at the simple act of bipedal motion. And they look at where they're going, not where they are. So they stumble over everything with their little kid feet. But they just go. This act of acceleration does not impress adults anymore. They have the idea of destination in their heads. They know where they're going, there's no point in looking around at all the noise and distractions everywhere. They have work to do. They're busy. Eyes down, trying not to step in or trip over something. Adults are just so damn unhappy.

I saw some little kids playing in a sandbox the other day. They were pouring sand on themselves and laughing hysterically. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through their minds as they did it. What they were imagining. I thought, for a moment, about the last time I'd been so amused.

But all I could think about was the work I had to catch up on.

Comments

Carolynn said…
Maybe the point where you're a grown up is the point where you realize you can't even schedule an adventure, let alone spontaneously have one.
October 26, 2011 at 9:14 AM
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