I was once a child.
In fact, I held on to many childlike qualities longer than most
people. I won’t lie. I enjoy a good bed sheet fort. I may eat pancakes in the middle of the night. But after some time, responsibilities come. Responsibilities and expectations and
grown-up things are all good. Working is
good. Sometimes, though, I have found
that the energy spent on these grown-up things really takes the wind out of the
sails of the USS Playtime.
However, during certain times during my stay in
India, I have rediscovered the joy and sheer necessity of play. And let me tell you: It is stellar. The children that I am around on a near daily
basis are always at me to play with them.
Example: *After 5 minutes of me
working on my computer* “Are you going to be working ALL DAY?” And sometimes, I dig deep to find the energy to
play from somewhere between yesterday’s biryani and a rib.
Some days I am a carnival ride, flinging children
here and there while trying to avoid the ceiling fan.
Some days I am a mountain. I lean back in a chair and hold little hands
as little feet make the treacherous climb to “Shoulder” peak. This is inevitably followed by an avalanche
of epic proportions.
Some days I have to fight off Vesuvius. I’m sure you heard of him. He is the mind that lives inside my right hand. He often wakes up from naps and is very
hungry for tickles. I try to hold him
back from little ribs, but to no avail.
Vesuvius occasionally will turn on me to feed his tickle appetite. Et tu, Brute?
He is also open to answering any questions with a mere nod or wag of the
hand.
Some days I succumb to the kazillion begs to go down
with the children to the playground. At first
this is just another job, but wait until a swing opens up. There is nothing quite like swinging through
the warm Indian air, rickshaws buzzing in the background, girlish giggles
resounding below my feet. Of course,
this is usually interrupted by requests for the famed “Big Boost” on the swing
that comes in three levels: To the Moon, the Sun, or the Stars.
And on the one occasion that I spent a few hours at
the Embassy, I took full advantage of a field of none other than my
former-nemesis-turned-bff: grass. Tag
and running. How many cartwheels can I
do without stopping?
Judge me. Go
ahead and think that I’m immature. But I
know the truth. Play is medicine from
God and He has given me five little nurses to make sure that I don’t miss one
single dose. So don’t be too
serious. Buy some sidewalk chalk. Get sweaty.
Turn on the sprinkler. Have fun
and PLAY!