Do you remember hot summer days when you were a kid?
Riding your bike.
Playing in the sprinkler.
Roaming in a pack of other near-feral children who had no idea what time it was, only that we had to be home when the sun started to go down.
One time when I was a kid, my parents rented a trailer for a week. It was exciting because my father’s idea of camping is to take a picture of outside.
“There are no bugs in a picture.”
We went for less than a week.
Despite the fact that my mom was nearly struck by lightning, despite the fact that we discovered the food was mouldy after I had nearly finished my dinner, despite the fact that my dad didn’t shower once while we were there, but missed the memo that most people actually swim in the lake (he hates cold water of any kind), and despite him lifting his arm and blowing his disgusting, rancid arm pit, onion-juice waft in my direction, despite the fact that it rained more days than it shined, it was one of the most memorable family holidays I ever had as a kid.
This past Lammas weekend, I took my kids up to my best friend’s trailer.
There was no mould on the food. There was no lightning. There wasn’t even any rain. There was definitely some rancid arm pits, but that’s pretty much par for the course.
I let my kids eat whatever they want. I took them swimming in the lake during the day and late at night, under the Milky Way. I taught them the joys of skinny dipping. I let them roam the trailer park with other kids.
My kids had fun.
And so did I. Watching them enjoy themselves with such delight is nothing short of sheer magic.
It reminded me of being a kid again. And for that small pocket of time, while I was with my kids, I honoured my inner child by not adhering to a schedule, not following any rules, just simply enjoying myself with them.
Sometimes you’re so busy being a parent, you forget that there’s magic in the world.
Don’t lose your magic.