Do you ever wish you could time travel? Maybe go back about 10, 20, or 30 years ago?
I see the “sass” attitudes that my soon-to-be step daughter and my niece seem to share. Even though they’ve only met three times, and they live almost 1,000 miles away, somehow they operate on the same wavelength.
If you think about it, kids have it made today. I guess they always have it made, since they depend on adults 100% of the time, all the time, every day of their miniature existence. But, don’t you wish you could get away with even half of the stuff that they are able to get away with? For example, if a kid coughs in Mom’s face, her reaction (99.9 % of the time) is to simply squint/blink, give a disgustingly sweet facial expression, then calmly wipe her face off and hope she doesn’t develop the flu. Usually the wiping of the face is accompanied by a phrase like, “Are you OK?” or “Remember to cover your mouth when you cough, sweetie.”
However, imagine doing that as an adult. If you were waiting in line to order some food, and the person in front of you happens to turn around and you cough in his/her face … Chances are you will either receive a cussing, a beating or food thrown at you (maybe even all three).
When Danielle falls asleep on the couch, her dad or I will carefully and quietly pick her up and carry her up the stairs (which I consider a 5-minute workout). As a child, I remember my parents carrying me up the staircase when I would fall asleep watching TV, even when my legs nearly dragged the floor. I wish someone would carry me now. Unfortunately, if I fall asleep on the couch, it’s usually in yesterday’s clothes and makeup, which means my eyes sticking together with clumpy mascara and uncontrollable hair. (Frankenstein’s bride has nothing on me during those mornings.)
I was so much braver as a kid compared to my adult self. When people would mispronounce my name, I would sternly correct them (even if it meant kicking them in the shins so that I could get my point across). I’m half tempted to put Danielle on the phone when someone calls that I don’t want to talk to and let her go to town asking her billions and billions of questions. (Four-year-olds have the most questions.)
Sitting on Santa’s lap as a kid: cute. Sitting on Santa’s lap as an adult: disturbing. Running around half naked in your underwear as a kid: funny. Running around half naked in your underwear as an adult: jail time. Being a sore loser over a board game and throwing a tantrum as a kid isn’t looked down upon as much as when you’re an adult. And, trust me, eating a row of chocolate chip cookies and ice cream as an adult … well, let’s just say my metabolism definitely isn’t what it used to be.