Yesterday, my photographer husband had a photoshoot. As it gets closer to Christmas, the barrage of family photo sessions are finally promising to slow down. Christmas cards need to be ordered soon, people. But because over the past few days it feels better when we are all three in the same place, Lyla and I headed across town with him. The plan was that we would run to the craft store while he took said pictures for an old friend from high school.
On our way, we were trekking down a familiar highway. A highway Lyla and I often take to get to friends’ houses for play dates and relaxing fun. On this stretch, there is a tunnel that spans all of about 50 feet. Lyla, in her innate attention to detail (which is finally something she gets from me), started to cry. Here is the conversation that followed between Lyla and her dad:
Mike (Dad): Lyla, what’s wrong?
Lyla: I’m sad.
Lyla: I want to go through the tunnel.
Mike: The tunnel? Really? That’s why you’re crying?
Lyla: (through sad eyes and a pouty face) Yeah..
Mike: Lyla, (long pause with exhaling sigh) I want your life.
(end of conversation)
So, maybe it’s true that I play up the tunnel every time we venture through it… with fully outstretched hands and boisterous cheering. I understand that in all actuality these tears could be all my doing.
And really there is no moral to this story. No wise lesson.
It just struck me on that day.
I mean sometimes as adults we make life more complex than it needs to be. And sometimes, life just is more complex. Sometimes it’s messy and painful and exhausting.
And sometimes we just get sad about missing the simple fun things that just make us smile on an ordinary day. Because really, those moments are nice, really nice.