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| L-R: Shawn, Minnie Mouse, Tara & Jason at Disney World |
As adults, most of us
have become experts in taking life’s small, unexpected turns in stride.Very
few daily instances inspire a reaction bigger than a smile, a slight raise of
an eyebrow or a small nod of the head. Not too happy and not overly sully… that’s
the key. Being a responsible member of society demands that we be temperamentally
just right for the Goldilocks around us.
Children, on the other
hand, aren’t expected to filter their emotions in the same way. This lack of
adult mediocrity seems to give them carte blanche to unabashedly wear their
emotions… not just on their sleeve, but on their entire body. When a 4 year old is happy, it envelops them. When
they’re upset, you don’t have to coax it out of them. And when a child is either
extraordinarily sad or extremely happy, it often creates a very physical
reaction... emotions spilling out of their tiny bodies without warning,
flooding their beings one feeling at a time.
As a child, I suffered
from excitement-induced sore legs, which is not nearly as endearing as it
sounds. The only remedy for my excruciating pain was to have my legs rubbed, sometimes
for hours, until the pain (and tears) subsided. Unfortunately for my parents, I
found nearly everything exciting – a change of seasons, first day of school, birthdays,
Halloween, Easter. But nothing was as exciting as Christmas. If it were the New
Millennium, I’m sure my parents would have simply given me a Valium in those
weeks leading to Christmas morning. But it was the 80’s, decades before
medicating children with drugs became the norm… so I wasn’t even given a
Panadol. Instead, they’d lovingly spend hours each night taking turns rubbing
my legs, hoping I’d somehow forget Christmas was around the corner.
Out of five children,
I was the only one who suffered with excitement-induced sore legs.
