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Today a colleague's daughter, Joanna, a charming little sparkplug of whom I am very fond, turns seven. I dropped off a giftwrapped package for her father to take home to her (she usually visits the office on Tuesdays, so I won't see her today), and he told me that the fluffy bunny I bought for her last year is still a favorite among her stuffed companions. This, of course, pleased me no end.
He went on to tell me that he and his wife were giving Joanna a watch. I asked if she yet knew how to tell time, and he said she's in the process of learning.
It's a big time in a kid's life -- learning to tell time and receiving one's first watch. It's a small but key step in the relentless march toward adulthood. Most kids are quite pleased to receive their first watch, and I fully understand why, but if they only knew, perhaps they'd leave those timepieces in the little velveteen snap boxes they come in for just a while longer.
Just consider how one's world changes. There's something open-ended and untethered about a child's life. Superimpose the march of time, though -- the relentless tick-tick-tick of the passing seconds, minutes, and hours -- upon that free and easy existence, and something's irretrievably altered.
But from the vantage point of the child, it's an exciting development. That constant striving to be thought a "big girl" (or boy) -- just imagine if we kept that desire throughout our lives.
"Oh, man, I can't wait until I'm fifty. People just don't take you seriously when you're in your forties. When I'm fifty, I'm be able to do whatever I want -- no one will be able to tell me what to do."
If only...
Posted by brett at 03:55 PM | TrackBack