WE DO NOT STOP PLAYING BECAUSE
WE GROW OLD;
WE GROW OLD BECAUSE WE STOP PLAYING.
I just got back from spending some time with my nephew, B, and my niece, T, and boy, did we play! We played and played and played. I'm not sure who had more fun, them or my husband or me. Okay, it was me (although my husband might disagree.)
When I play with the kids, I really play. I run around. I blow bubbles. I play board games and I play with cars and dolls. I go to story time at the library where we make crafts and pick out books and we read, read, read. The couch becomes a pool and whales swim beneath the playground bridge. Sometimes, we are robots or monsters or horses or babies and yet, I am more myself when I play than I am at pretty much any other time. Except for when I'm writing.
Now go play!
(But watch out for that sea monster throw pillow. Hurry! Jump to the armchair... Whew! You made it.)