Take Jack for example. Jack is an accident prone seven year old with an assuredness about him that, as I grow older, find myself losing. One day at the mall, he walked straight up to a saleswoman and said, “Hello. I was wondering if you have any of those black leather jackets-the kind that motorcycle guys wear?” I was pretty impressed. Jack knew what he wanted, and he did not hesitate to ask for it. I, on the other hand, am constantly paralyzed by indecision. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up; I don’t know what I want for dinner tonight; I don’t even know what I want to wear. The outfit I’m wearing right now is the fourth I tried on today. I could learn a bit from Jack about walking forward in life with more self confidence.
As for honesty, well, kids are famous for that. One time, while I was trying to parallel park, Julie, Jack’s older sister, did not hesitate to tell me that she could parallel park better on her iPhone game than I could in real life. I couldn’t help but smile. She had a point. At twenty years old, I really should know how to parallel park. And her brutal honesty was pretty amusing. As I get older, I find I’m expected to lie with a smile on my face in the interest of politeness. And yes, there are reasons for this. If I went around blurting out every thought I had, I’d run into a lot of trouble. But every now and again, bluntness is pretty refreshing, and it’s pretty funny when it’s from an eleven year old. Sadly, three weeks after the fact, I still don’t know how to parallel park in real life, but I’ve mastered Julie’s iPhone game!
And kids know how to enjoy life. Annie is a blonde four and a half year old who recently told me I was going to die because I was getting so old; her grandma had just explained that when people got old, they died. So when I told her I was turning twenty, she figured I was ancient. Perhaps because of her ominous outlook Annie really knows how to appreciate the little things. The other day, while crying over her mother’s tragic ban of television, I offered her two chocolates as consolation. Her eyes widened, and she cradled the two Dove squares like they were gold. Watching her, I couldn’t help but wish that two little tin foil wrapped treats could instantly cheer me up too. I don’t know when I stopped appreciating chocolate, but perhaps it started when my goals for watching TV before bedtime were set a little higher. Still, at some point chocolate stopped meaning so much to me. But now, I’m going to take a note from Annie and start treasuring those small things again because they make life magical.
It all goes back to that cliché about growing but not growing up. As I grow older, I’ll keep it in the back of my head. Though growing up brings its own freedoms, like watching TV whenever I want, I don’t want to lose those valuable lessons of childhood that make life so meaningful.
Brutal Honesty!
Through Kids Eyes
by Alex Dorfman