Something that will always make me smile is seeing little kids out in public wearing costumes when it’s not Halloween. The other day SH and I saw a boy who was about 4 years old wearing a Batman costume, including a full face mask. The blue “underwear” probably went halfway up his ribcage. I love the idea that parents indulge their kids’ desires to dress-up and pretend they’re something else. I’m sure many of those “indulgences” started with a screaming child refusing to leave the house without their ballerina gear on, but I prefer to just believe that the parents were happy to oblige their kid’s imagination. I mean, why not? When else in life can you get away with pink tulle in the middle of a grocery store? I think there are times when we all wish we could be a superhero, so why not let kids pretend while they don’t care what other people think?
Being an “adult” means losing access to an active imagination. Now all I think about are things like meeting my deadlines at work, getting an oil change, planning a damn wedding (should I really be obsessing about place cards?), and how to plan for my financial future. Reality is an imagination killer; the fantasy world so many kids have easy access to just disappears. I know that having an imagination can lead to worrisome fears about monsters under the bed, but how awesome to think that you just saw a dinosaur in a tree, or that the toys you’re playing with have real personalities, or that the teapot in front of your bear is holding tea given to you by the Queen of England. What a wonderful world.
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