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Big Guy as Peter Pan: I don’t wanna grow up!

Submitted by on Tuesday, 3 June 2008 No Comment

One of my earliest memories is of thrashing around in bed trying to avoid a nap and thinking how sad it must be to be my mom.

She doesn’t have any dolls, I thought. How can big people face life without Barbie?

That’s why Big Guy’s speech on the swing set this afternoon didn’t surprise me in the least. Made me laugh a bit at the Mini Me nature of his soliloquy, but I think I hid my giggle. It was only hours later that I realized the kid was onto something.

“”What am I going to do when I get as big as you? I won’t be able to go down this slide anymore. No fun!”" he pouted.

Then he pondered the subject some more and really let rip.

“”All big people do is talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. Booorrrrring!“” he sniffed. “”I’ll have to do my own laundry, and I’ll have to do my own dishes. I won’t be able to play with my toys. I’m not going to grow up.

“”And I’m never going to get a job either,”" he added.

“”Then how are you going to pay for your house?”" I asked.

“”Don’t need a house. I’m going to be a baseball player.”"

“”But you can’t stay at the ballpark all the time. You have to sleep somewhere.”"

“”Wally and Al sleep at the baseball place,”" he retorted, referring to a tale I concocted last summer when he asked where the Modesto Nuts’ mascots live. A fine example of how even the whitest white lie always bites me in the butt.

“”And how are you going to pay for your food?”"

“”They feed the baseball players after the game,”" he smirked. Kid’s watched “”Angels in the Outfield”" one too many times. He already knows the drill.

“”How are you going to feed your babies?”"

Exasperated eye roll. “”I keep telling you, I’m not going to have babies!”"

Oh, to be not quite 5 and have all the answers.

So I chuckled a bit to myself and let it go, figuring further discussion would fall under the category of “”an argument about nothing.”"

Besides, part of me agrees with him. Growing up is highly overrated.

It reminded me of a recent conversation with a friend who knows I’ve struggled a bit of late and asked how things were going.

“”All right, I guess. Life’s not as stressful as it was, so I suppose things are better. But it’s still not wonderful.”"

“”I think that’s called being an adult,”" my friend replied.

Booorrrrring!There’s a lot of validity to my friend’s point — we grown-ups can’t walk around in a constant state of child-like amazement. Not, at least, without the boss demanding a drug test.

But Big Guy has a point, too.

Somewhere along the line, life manages to beat out of most of us too much of the joy of living. We wind up longing for the Fourth of July while overlooking the simple pleasure of an average Tuesday. We rush to get here, sprint to get there and forget to enjoy the trip.

One of my favorite songs, not coincidentally, is U2′s “”I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”" It’s one of those rare music videos where the background images — Bono singing about a burning desire for something more amid the artifice of Las Vegas — add to the song.

Perhaps it’s time to get out of the Vegas mentality, give up the search and revel in what I have.

And, Big Guy, we’ll see if your grandmother can handle the laundry. Talk about one boring adult — she still doesn’t have any Barbies.

Copyright 2008 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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