August 17, 2012

Sometimes when you are five...


Sometimes when you are five your hands are just not big enough to spread across the ebony and ivory keys of a piano but your sister’s were when she was five, and so she was playing songs very quickly and you can barely put all five fingers on the keys at the same time. So you feel small and young and a little behind.

Sometimes when you are five you have a friend named Brownie who gets to do all the bad things you really want to do and your parents won’t let you, and he calls your sister names you don’t dare say like “crybaby” and he hides her toys, and you blame it on him but you get a consequence anyway even though it was the bear’s fault. So you feel adventurous and rebellious and proud to be friends with such a bad bear. 

Sometimes when you are five and you are very shy people ask you your name and you just don’t want to say it but your mom makes you so it comes out very thin, and you are asked to please say it louder but you still don’t want to and then you get scolded by your mom for being rude. So you feel frustrated because really, you are just shy.

Sometimes when you are five you like to put your Legos back in their box according to colors but that takes a while and your family is running late so you get told to hurry up and just put away those Legos already, and you have to throw them in the box willy-nilly. So you feel anxious because nobody understands just how important it is for you to put your Legos away by color.

Sometimes when you are five you want to play all by yourself for a few minutes but your sister is sociable so she wants to play with you all the time but she wants you to play her way because she is bossy, and you tell her to go away and then you get in trouble for not sharing. So you feel annoyed because all you want is some time alone and she is always there.

Sometimes when you are five and you have a bad dream your mom and dad come running to your bedroom in the middle of the night to hug you and sing to you and pray with you and maybe even take you to their bed to sleep. So you feel loved and cherished and safe.

Sometimes when you are five you get to go out with your daddy all by yourself and you go to the barbershop and then you go get ice cream together. So you feel manly and especial and you know you want to be just like him.

Sometimes when you are five you race everyone in your family down the grassy path and, one by one, they stop running because no one has as much energy as a five year old boy, not even your bossy six year old sister. So you feel fast and confident and like you just won all the medals in the world.

Sometimes when you are five and it’s your birthday your mom makes you a cake and you get to invite your best friends and you play with cars all afternoon and then you get to open presents. So you feel important and bigger.

And you decide that even though you are smaller, weaker, less accomplished, and less powerful than everyone else in the world, sometimes being five is not bad. Not bad at all.

Happy birthday, buddy!



**Friends, I have not fallen off the planet but lately it seems I have had more pressings things to take care of like celebrating summer birthdays as you can see.  I’ll be back. In the meantime, may God bless you and keep you**