“Wrap it tight. Like a burrito.”
I pushed blankets under his sides with the force of straight fingers until only his nose and eyes peeked under cacoon-like sheets.
“There. A Ty burrito ready to be gobbled up.”
And then the stinker wriggled his hands free and pulled me next to him, playing with the charms on my white bracelet, spinning them ’round and ’round.
“What did we make these for,” he asked, referring to the hand-stamped words on a silver hanging pendant. “Your birthday?”
“No bud. It was for Mother’s Day.”
He traced ant-size letters reading, ‘You’re funny.’ My mom had asked him one word to describe me and that’s what he chose. I mean, c’mon. My kid thinks I’m funny? I can die happy.
The room sat quiet and then he declared with his typical Ty gusto, “If there’s a Mother’s Day, we should have a Kid Day, too.”
Why are kids so dang awesome? Duh. We totally should.
“Hmm. When should ‘Kid Day’ be?
He shimmied his body free of burrito status and sat up.
Alright then. Apparently every Friday is now Kid Day.
“What does Kid Day look like, Ty?”
“We eat pizza and play games and snuggle,” he smiled. Then he rattled off something resembling Halloween on crack and I sat there grinning and thinking, He’s on to something. I wonder if ‘Kid Day’ isn’t exclusively for kids.
I think sometimes I- us adults – need a Kid Day. A day to embrace our inner child. To play and laugh and let the stress of whatever feels big at-the-moment disappear at a park or a round of Candyland or surrounded by Kit-Kat wrappers.
I believe God gives us kids to remind us to relive the simple days of childhood with them, but mostly, to learn from them. To bring us back to what matters- people and time and how to enjoy the moments in front of us.
So I’m taking advice from my six-year old. I’m trying to be more kid-like. To giggle and wear mis-matched socks. To choose awareness, not analyzation. To read picture books. To kick or throw a ball in the front yard. To eat candy before dinner.
Being kid-like also means loving big. With grace, not grudges. With the best of hopes.With inclusion and ‘come sit with me,’ and ‘wanna be my friend?’ and pure trust. Being kid-like says honest feelings and thoughts, without fears of how they’ll be responded too.
And you what’s happened? I’ve felt lighter this last week. More joyful. More confident and and present and thankful -simply for what is- not what’s lacking. Kids don’t live in expectation world. They don’t get stunted by ideals or stress the way adults do.
When I think of people I admire, souls I love being around, they all have one trait in common- they have a kid-like quality. A zest for adventure and spontaneity. They love to love and exude a contagious curiosity. They are big kids in grown up bodies. And they are quite possibly the best type of humans.
Ty thinks so too. Which is why I not only want to have “funny” stamped on my charm pendant, but maybe one day I can also earn the title of “Kid.”
Even if it’s not Friday.
If you want to hear more about Ty’s ‘Kid Day’ story, you can listen to Lighten Up with Melanie Dale, a hilarious author/speaker who invited me to be a guest on her show. We laughed 95% of the time. And talked about undie therapy. Listen below: