As I sit on my living room couch preparing to pound the keys of my laptop while drinking my 4th beer, a couple of things occur to me. One, I am really excited to bring you the chronicle of my on the job training of fatherhood. And two… this 4th beer and these blogs are the closest to becoming Ernest Hemingway I will ever know.
That aside, I’d like to start today’s note.
I think it takes a certain kind of creativity to set out to write. Whether it’s a daily blog, a comic book, a novel, or hell… even some obituaries are fairly creative. (After all, how many assholes in this world are a “beloved husband and caring father”?) And that kind of creativity probably comes from the imagination we cultivate as children. I myself spent my fair share of fighting phantom ninjas. Posing as Rambo, running through the jungles of somewhere tropical that I wasn’t aware existed at the time; no doubt killing many bad guys with funny angled eyes. And that’s really just a couple of a myriad of things I imagined while I was a child.
And although I’ve devised this plan of bring you a blog everyday… I’ve lost a little of that imagination... we all have really. Well, sans the small percentage of those that manages to make a living writing, directing, and composing the books, movies, and music that entertain us. But lucky for me, I’ve asked and been accepted into a life with a loving wife and very imaginative four year old who’s just stumbled onto this most precious gift.
Today, for instance, I spent most of day watching a dance team competition, a dog being examined by someone much more Doogie than the fictional young doctor ever was, and seeing a young girl go to and get asked to leave school for multiple disciplinary reasons. Like watching TV, talking, and refusing to stand in “time out”. And here judging from her steady television diet of Disney Channel, I would’ve thought she only imagined school days filled with perfectly choreographed dancing and singing.
Who knew I’d have an imaginative hooligan on my hands?
It’s this kind of pretend play that makes me smile. In spite of her imagining an expulsion from mythical school… I mean it could be worse, she could be pretending to be on the poll. And it’s this kind of pretend that makes leaves me in awe at the innocence of childhood. Where as my day is spent worrying about when I will get a job and will we have enough money this month, her day is spent going to school, performing an examination, and cutting a rug.
She isn’t hindered by responsibility or a pile of bills. Although we spend an occasional hour dedicated to learning our letter and counting numbers, she gets most of the day to explore the depths of her own creative mind. The best part is, the more she grows and learns; the more her imaginative world expands.
I’m not sure at what age we stop fighting monsters and/or saving the world. (For us guys, it’s probably around the age we discover girls… phssh… women) But it’s almost sad that it happens. And although, I probably wouldn’t have started this self examination and reached this unhappy conclusion without the help of Kalen, I can’t be upset about it. In fact I can only be inspired. Inspired and happy that she invites me into her world, whatever that world may consist of at the time. That is basically why I started this blog, well… that and the sanity I mentioned in my last blog.
Now as I close this and continue watching the season opener of House (and after my 6th beer) I will say this, open up your brain from time to time. See a world that only a four year could. Maybe get lost in a childish book or even watch a cartoon. If you’re really feeling adventurous, go fight mutant monsters or attend a ball with a toddler. You may find you’ll enjoy yourself.
Me? Tomorrow I plan on going to a five star restaurant with the finest food a four year old could prepare.
And PS, maybe I’ll switch to whiskey…that’d be a tad more Hemingway of me.
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