Finally, it's Friday, and the sun is shining and we have a long happy weekend to look forward to. Bea is especially happy because she has just received a very special present, as you can see. At nearly four, she's exactly the right age to have a stylish bouncy horse to ride. She
has a plush horse named Floory, and a plush unicorn named Chuckster, both of which she occasionally stuffs into the sofa cushions. Ah, the long lovely days of childhood, and the joyful lack of responsibility for explaining yourself. Why shouldn't a unicorn be stuffed into a sofa cushion? Why not, indeed?
I just finished reading a wonderful book by Alison Lurie about the subversive nature of children's literature. In the book, which is called Don't Tell the Grownups, Lurie notes that the favorite stories of children have characters that are daring and sometimes even naughty. Take for example Peter Rabbit. He broke all the rules and lost his best jacket and nearly got whacked by the farmer...but then he got away and ran home to be scolded/cuddled by his mother and put to bed with only a cup of chamomile tea for his supper. This is the plot line that has captured generations of child readers. No one would want to be Flopsy or Mopsy or Cottontail if they could be Peter instead.
So Bea is out there on the deck bouncing on her bouncy horse today. In no time, she'll want to ride a real pony. Then she'll be like her Aunt Sara: she'll want to ride a real horse. And so it goes. And we love her, and we want her to have everything she might ever want or need.
Lastly, we ourselves--and by that I mean myself and all the rest of Bea's family and friends--must allow Bea time and room to think and to explore and to imagine. We can begin by allowing ourselves those privileges. We all need to test the boundaries of what we can think, do and achieve. A bouncy horse is just the first step, but at least it's a step in the right direction. Hi-ho, Silver, and awaaaaay!