Dear Little Kid,
I remember watching you run around the neighborhood.
You were a blur.
Constantly running, jumping, wrestling, bike riding, snow cone eating
hair sticking up runt.
You had friends.
You played all kinds of games with them – tag, hide and seek, tackle
the man with the ball, baseball, acorn war, water balloon war, pig,
around the world, one on one, blind man’s bluff in the pool, marco/polo,
and the list goes on and on.
Occasionally your Dad made you do some work – wash the car, mow the
grass, pick up dog poop.
But you lived to play.
You always had a band aid on some body part – knee, elbow, cheek.
But you played right through it.
You played right into the night – Summer, Spring and Fall.
You rode your bicycle to school, racing your friends there.
And rode your bike home, kicking the neighbors garbage cans over
along the way.
Don’t worry, I won’t tell.
Once you graduated from High School some of the play time was over.
Things got more serious with work, college, expectations and…life.
You got sucked into that trap for a while.
You stopped playing.
You began to have minor panic attacks in large crowds.
Your health was suffering. You wondered who you were and what
you were supposed to do.
Life dictated to you.
But one day, you woke up.
And you went to that corporate job for the last time.
Remember how you actually told a “higher up” to shove it?
You laughed about that.
Almost as loudly as when you were a kid and knocked on the neighbors door and ran.
And now you’re life has come full circle.
You play for a living.
Except you’re no longer that little kid.
You’re a big kid and you have 4 kids of your own.
And everyday you play with them.
And you still play with other grown ups.
But in a health and fitness sort of way.
It’s good for them.
It’s good for you.
Hey, Kid. You were right all along.