Perhaps the greatest thing about being a kid is simply being a kid. Unfortunately, most don’t realize it at the time — they just want to grow up as fast as they can. I should know — I was one of those people.
Sadly, as an adult, those who wanted to grow up so fast usually only want to have the freedom and joy of being a kid once again. I should know because I’m one of them.
While growing up at 110 Flamingo Street, I couldn’t wait until I was big like my two older brothers. Being older meant they could do a whole lot more stuff than me, and never get left behind.
If you were a kid living on Flamingo Street, usually your main mode of transportation was your bike. Unless, of course, you were Down the Street Bully Brad — then your main mode of transportation was usually someone else’s bike.
Red Rocket was mine, but even with a really fast name and three speeds, it wasn’t fast enough to keep up with my older brothers when they rode off on their bikes. By the time I pedaled to the end of our driveway, they were nowhere in sight.
Growing up, I got left behind a lot. I promised myself, when I got older I’d never leave anyone behind who wanted to play. Last week I broke that long held promise, and in the process made someone really important cry.
Last week, Little One wanted to go to the play park. How did I know she wanted to go? At only 19 months, she knows about seven words. No means no. Sitttt means, “Please sit down and play with me.” Word number three is, “Wee.” In her language that means, “Please take me to the park so I can slide down the slides and run around.”
After hearing Little One say, “Wee!” for two hours – yes, it takes that long to get two babies ready to go outside – at noon we finally left home so we would have plenty of time to play before the train came. The train runs next to the park at 1, and we just have to see it. Word number four is, “Choo-choo.”
After swinging on every swing, crawling through all the tubes, it was time to drop rocks off the wooden walk bridge over the creek. Word number five is, “Bloop” the sound rocks make as they splash into the water.
The train ran on time, and after one more run around the park the only thing left to do was visit the little red schoolhouse. As she ran to the small building, I walked over to sit down on a nearby bench for a much deserved rest. Naptime couldn’t come soon enough.
I’m sure she felt the same way. The next sound I heard was a little voice saying word number six, “Papa!” Little One thought I had left her behind, and she was in tears.
After a whole-body hug and a bunch of reassuring kisses, all was forgiven. Together we visited the little red schoolhouse, ate our animal crackers, sipped pink Kool-Aid, and made it home for a much-deserved nap.
It never ceases to amaze me that, if you live long enough, history will repeat — like being left behind. Last week at the play park that’s exactly what happened. Except for the hugs and kisses, of course. Thankfully never got any of those from my three brothers.
And, if you’re keeping count, “Ehn-Ehn-Ehn” is the seventh word Little One has learned. It means, “You can’t understand what I want so I will repeat ehn endlessly until you do.”
[Rick Ryckeley, who lives in Senoia, served as a firefighter for more than two decades and has been a weekly columnist since 2001. His email is storiesbyrick@gmail.com. His books are available at www.RickRyckeley.com.]
