To be five again

I was watching an interview with Rainn Wilson about SoulPancake and he asked Oprah some of his favorite questions. One was, “What do you miss about being five years old?”

I thought of several things instantly, but I thought of the episode yesterday as I was driving through the carwash. Do you remember how fun it used to be going through the carwash?! I loved, so much, being a little kid in the back seat, the huge red and yellow brushes rolling up, over, and around the car, beating loudly and heavily from all sides, while we were safe and dry inside. Water spraying from all directions, the car magically moving forward, and then the huge wind tunnel right before the green light signaled “go.”

For some reason, I thought that was the most fun. And running! I loved running as a kid. You never ran for exercise, or to lose weight, or to train, it was to get somewhere important, fast. Like a friend’s house, or home base, or the ice cream truck!

And ice cream! How great was ice cream. I still love it, but it does not love me. My stomach hurts for days if I eat an ice cream cone. What happened to my five-year-old stomach that could eat a corn dog and french fries and a funnel cake then go on a roller coaster?

And roller coasters! They had to be pretty small and lame if I was five, but I sure thought I was big stuff in kiddie-land riding roller coasters without my parents. And that octopus-thing where one person always got squished on one side when it went up in the air. I’d probably vomit if I tried to get on that now.

Oh, to be five years old. My son would be five in four months. I bet he’s having an amazing time in Heaven. You go find the rollercoasters, carwashes, and funnel cakes, buddy. I’ll be here remembering more cool stuff if you need me.

 

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