AROUND TOWN | LAURA ANDERSON Finding my fountain of youth
Most mornings my short commute to work is uneventful. Over the summer, on the days when I decided to go into the office a little early, I’d see the same man riding his bicycle up the street, a plastic grocery bag over each handlebar and a cup of coffee in one hand. I assumed he was on his way to work and marveled at his ability to juggle everything while riding a bicycle on a busy street. But lately I’ve been going into the office at my regular time, so I miss seeing the bicycling commuter.
Now that school is back in session, my brief ride to work is all about sharing the road with teen drivers, harried parents, and school buses. Earlier this week, as I was heading to the office, I noticed a pair of girls standing near the end of their driveway, waiting for the school bus. They looked to be about the age to attend kindergarten or first grade. Each had a brightly colored backpack strapped to their back. Each time a car passed by they would jump into the air. Time after time after time.
When it was my turn to pass, I noticed they had huge grins on their faces. This was clearly their way of entertaining themselves as they waited for the bus. As they leapt into the air, I gave my horn a little toot, acknowledging their effort. It made me smile. There’s a special kind of exuberance that is only exhibited by the very young. All too soon these girls will grow up, and likely assume that air of boredom or indifference as they wait for the middle school bus. At that time, they’ll likely be glued to their cell phones, scrolling through Snapchat or TikTok or or some other new social media site that’s yet to be created. But for now, these two girls were perfectly content to pass the time by jumping up in the air together as each car motored by.
It reminded me a bit of my co-worker’s little boy. Her son is not quite 3 and is experiencing his first few months of day care. Each morning she drives him to school, parks and walks him in to meet his teachers. Each day she talks about the friends he’ll see, the crafts he’ll do, the things he’ll learn. And each day, as the teacher comes forward to greet him, he will throw himself to the ground and wail, "Mommmmmeeeeeee!" Unless his dad drops him off. In which case he’ll wail, "Daddeeeeee."
It’s an exuberance of a different kind but the energy level is the same. Set aside, for a moment, the fact that within a minute or two of arriving, his tears are gone and he’s happily playing with his classmates. My friend is wise to his theatrics. She’s noticed his carefully orchestrated fall to the ground always occurs on the carpet, never the hard floor. While it’s never fun listen to your (or any) child cry, she knows it’s an act and doesn’t get sucked into it. She bids him goodbye and heads to work. Who but the very young have the persistence (and the energy) to commit to such drama day after day?
How wonderful would it be to capture that same enthusiasm, that same exuberance, as those two little girls waiting for their bus? Instead of hitting the snooze button, reluctantly dragging yourself out of bed and resigning yourself to heading off to work, wouldn’t it be better to awake with gratitude for another day on earth and embrace the challenges ahead? Maybe I should channel those girls, mimic their energy, and walk into my office each morning with a spring in my step and a smile on my face.
Either that or I’ll channel my co-worker’s son and throw myself down on my carpeted cubicle floor.
“Mommmmmmeeeeee!”