It would be nice to have the imagination of a 5-year-old. I guess we all did at one time, but too much television and too many bills to pay quickly erode your connection to the land of fantasy. Fortunately, some of us have jobs in which we occasionally get to be somewhat creative and can reconnect with our imaginary friends every once in awhile.
As I was sitting in the living room floor trying desperately to recover from my limited time on the old treadmill (but that’s another story all-together), my 5-year-old teenager strutted into the room.
“Da-da,” she said, “I’m a cowgirl.”
I looked at her. A princess crown lined in pink down-like feathers was nestled snuggly in her golden locks. Her small, slender fingers clung tightly to a “magic wand” shaped like a purple star. On her feet were pink Croc-like, aerated sandals and she wore a hot pink/orangish fleece hoody. In fact the only thing she had on that kind of resembled a modern-day cowgirls’ attire were her jeans. Of course they were emblazoned with beaded flower patterns down outer seam of each leg.
She was quite the picture of a Wild West heroine. Of course, no one in their adult mind would ever guess that she was a cowgirl, but that's OK. No adults were allowed to play.
“I’m pretending this is my hat,” she said as she pointed to the crown. “These are my black cowgirl boots and this is my rope.” She twirled the starry wand as she struck a pose that would make any runway model proud.
“I’m pretending.”
I could only watch as she hopped on her stick horse and road off into the sunset.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
And all the World Wore White
Loaded in the Jeep, the family and I were heading out for a quick supper and trip to Wal-Mart this evening. It was a typical exciting night out in the “big town.”
Now one must keep in mind before asking what we had to eat that I have been working hard on the treadmill and stationary bike, trying to shed a few pounds. I’m not excessively overweight, but would love to drop about 20 lbs. I like to tell people that if I lost 20 pounds, I could be playing free safety somewhere in the NFL (6-3, 200). Of course, with my latest comments on my feelings about the state of football in our fair country, I think I’ll sit safely behind my desk and pound away on the keyboard.
Anyway, I am having little success in the weight loss department. Although I have been exercising, something tells me that eating pizza for the last three days tends to counteract the weight-loss activities.
Tonight was no different … A nice pizza buffet and off to the store. Of course, I ate spinach alfredo pizza, and drank diet Dr. Pepper, so that has to count for something.
We were headed to the store to stock up on snacks and junk for our weekend trip. Our Sunday school class, made up of kids who have been married for less than a year, along with us (the old fogies) and another couple just a few years younger than us, is taking its yearly weekend excursion to the mountains of New Mexico. Each fall, our class heads to Glorietta New Mexico for a weekend of sin and debauchery. We drink, smoke, dance and basically thumb our noses at the rules of the Baptist encampment where we stay.
OK. There is not drinking or smoking, but occasionally we have been known to cut a rug well after midnight which is woefully against the rules. And there are of course the stories of the cabin across the road that each year become increasingly unbelievable.
Anyway, after stocking up on junk that isn’t good for us … ie, there goes the already non-existent diet that I haven’t been following anyway … we piled back in the Jeep for the ride home. This is when my 5-year-old teenager began to dominate the conversation.
She has recently started making up her own songs. This is a trait she undoubtedly inherited from her dear old dad who is famous for his rendition of “Don’t Smell My Fart,” a parody of the classic Billy Ray Cyrus (back when mullets were cool) song. And that Irish women’s group’s song “Breathless,” which I changed to … Oh well, you get the idea.
My child, however, is on a much more ethereal plane when it comes to her compositions. I must admit it was quite cute as she made up songs about creation, encompassing all the colors of the rainbow and then some.
All you Biblical scholars out there might find it interesting to know the world was completely white until Jesus created the colors. And just to set the creation story straight, Jesus created the colors before, creating mankind.
Now one must keep in mind before asking what we had to eat that I have been working hard on the treadmill and stationary bike, trying to shed a few pounds. I’m not excessively overweight, but would love to drop about 20 lbs. I like to tell people that if I lost 20 pounds, I could be playing free safety somewhere in the NFL (6-3, 200). Of course, with my latest comments on my feelings about the state of football in our fair country, I think I’ll sit safely behind my desk and pound away on the keyboard.
Anyway, I am having little success in the weight loss department. Although I have been exercising, something tells me that eating pizza for the last three days tends to counteract the weight-loss activities.
Tonight was no different … A nice pizza buffet and off to the store. Of course, I ate spinach alfredo pizza, and drank diet Dr. Pepper, so that has to count for something.
We were headed to the store to stock up on snacks and junk for our weekend trip. Our Sunday school class, made up of kids who have been married for less than a year, along with us (the old fogies) and another couple just a few years younger than us, is taking its yearly weekend excursion to the mountains of New Mexico. Each fall, our class heads to Glorietta New Mexico for a weekend of sin and debauchery. We drink, smoke, dance and basically thumb our noses at the rules of the Baptist encampment where we stay.
OK. There is not drinking or smoking, but occasionally we have been known to cut a rug well after midnight which is woefully against the rules. And there are of course the stories of the cabin across the road that each year become increasingly unbelievable.
Anyway, after stocking up on junk that isn’t good for us … ie, there goes the already non-existent diet that I haven’t been following anyway … we piled back in the Jeep for the ride home. This is when my 5-year-old teenager began to dominate the conversation.
She has recently started making up her own songs. This is a trait she undoubtedly inherited from her dear old dad who is famous for his rendition of “Don’t Smell My Fart,” a parody of the classic Billy Ray Cyrus (back when mullets were cool) song. And that Irish women’s group’s song “Breathless,” which I changed to … Oh well, you get the idea.
My child, however, is on a much more ethereal plane when it comes to her compositions. I must admit it was quite cute as she made up songs about creation, encompassing all the colors of the rainbow and then some.
All you Biblical scholars out there might find it interesting to know the world was completely white until Jesus created the colors. And just to set the creation story straight, Jesus created the colors before, creating mankind.
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