It’s been a hot, confining week full of medical appointments. I needed a sunny, but cooler day with low humidity. I got a sultry gloomy day with a 75% chance of rain. Once again the world did not conform to my needs!
I have an early morning routine. I make my mug of decaf and settle into the stool at the end of the kitchen counter—my perch as my husband calls it—and get online. My OCD even dictates the order of the sites I visit: I check FB messages first for notes from my early-bird friends, then CNN to scan the headlines, followed by the weather app and FaceBook. By then, I’m awake enough to tackle Wordle. My final stop is my email inbox where a few blogs that I subscribe to greet me. My favorite is always Sean of the South by Sean Dietrich, guaranteed to evoke a laugh or tear with his Mark Twain-like tales.
Today’s entry was about happiness and how most kids are naturally happy. Kids face each day as an open invitation to play. They don’t fret about responsibilities—because they have few—and if they forget to make their bed for example, well, someone else will. I know adults like that. My husband immediately comes to mind. He’s one of the most childlike adults that I know—and I mean that in a good way…most of the time.
He wakes up later than I do. He sometimes sings in the morning! He comes out of the bedroom with the dog with the same tired joke every morning: “I think it’s safe to go out. You go first. There she is!” When I ask him what’s on his agenda for the day, there’s a very long pause and he reviews all the possibilities for how he might spend the day. In contrast, my to-do list is transcribed on my calendar. I know days in advance what needs to get done and when I will do it.
Yesterday he told me that he thought he’d cut the grass. I made the mistake of telling him that there was rain in the forecast around 3 PM. I meant it as a message to get an early start on the grass. He chose to hear it as a reason to put off cutting the grass to another day. He spent the day in his basement office researching something online. He was happy.
The grass won’t get cut today either since it’s supposed to rain most of the day. He’ll find something else to do that he’ll enjoy. I envy his flexibility and lack of obligation…most of the time.
I decided this morning to have a WWHD (What Would Husband Do) kind of day. I think I’ll have sausage and eggs for breakfast instead of my usual smoothie. Then I’ll go down to my craft room—which has been neglected for months—and resist the urge to clean up first. I’ll make something—earrings, a painting, a drawing maybe. I’ll play zydeco music and not clean up when I’m done. Lunch might be macaroni and cheese with ice cream for dessert. I may take a nap or read a book in the afternoon or just daydream and look out the window. It’s been a long time since I did nothing.
I will make dinner because it’s already on my calendar. It counts as play because it’s a new recipe that I want to try. If the weatherman is correct, we will likely have storms in the evening. Our DISH TV will likely be out of commission. My fantasy for the perfect end to a play day would be the two of us in the basement family room playing Scrabble and enjoying a glass of wine. That wouldn’t be my husband’s fantasy, but he can be coerced…most of the time.
Whatever your week has been like, whatever the weather in your part of the world, I hope you can declare a play day, too, and resign from the adult world for just one day. Get outside if the weather permits and be a kid again. Comment, please, and let me know what you did to play and if it made you happy. Who knows, we may start a trend. I’m betting that the world won’t fall apart if we step away from our routines and duties for a day. Maybe we will learn that the sky won’t fall even if we choose to play most of the time.
Crows Feet Chronicles 