My toddler gives me an excuse to be silly.
The other day, she giggled as I let her teddy bear drive my car. Okay--not really. But, I did position "Bear-Bear" on the steering wheel so that it looked like he was watching the road and steering the car. Everytime I took a left or right turn, around and around and upside down went "Bear-Bear". It was a simple attempt to amuse my four-year-old, but I laughed, too--and so did my teenage daughter.
I'd forgotten how little children find the simplest things silly. They giggle over chasing bubbles and singing nonsense songs like "Wibbly-Wobbly-Woo" or saying funny words like "popsicle" or "heffalump."
Life is not yet serious business for Christa. It's more important to laugh when Pooh Bear talks about "rumblies in his tummy" or shriek with glee when Daddy throws her high-higher-higher.
Christa always invites the family to join in the fun. We bundle up in coats and boots and go sledding because Christa wants to give it a try. We smile and treasure the sound of her laughter floating back up to us as she swooshes down the bumpy, snow covered hill. We brave the pandemonium of Chuck E. Cheese's and laugh as she experiences the kiddie rides and dances along when it's showtime.
Silliness. It seems like a lost art in my grown up world. Christa reminds me sometimes I take life a bit too seriously.