Last week I took my 4-yearold niece with me for a walk/hike at Kenneth Hahn Park. My niece, Kioana, had never been there and she was in awe of the view from atop the hill, the fish in the pond and pretty much anything that was new to her big, round eyes.
After trying to convince her that Kenneth Hahn Park was where zombies came out at night, she politely asked me to “stop being silly. ” Her response made me laugh but more than anything it made me feel good. It felt good to know that at 32, my tendency for childhood shenanigans has not faded away.
As a kid, like most children, I didn’t care for being around people who were boring. Being confined to a space where movement and imagination were limited was dreadful and I always associated these spaces with older, boring individuals.
I won’t say names but they were friends or coworkers of my parents, who despite being nice and welcoming, aren’t remembered for being fun.
Growing up definitely requires maturing and going to work and doing all the boring grown-up stuff. Babysitting Kioana is as much fun as it is tiring. However, now that I know that she is asking me to stop being silly makes me eager to babysit her sometime soon.
Her request indicates to me that she doesn’t associate me with boredom and that, to me, is a big win.
I know that my older nieces and nephews can stomach my presence and be entertained, which feels great. But for the 4-year-old to find me silly is a badge of honor. Next time she sits me down to play tea time, I will make sure to turn up the silly behavior and let the fun times roll. Hopefully, she won’t ask me to settle down and act my age.
I can’t wait to have my own kids to be silly with (and tired). Hopefully by the time they come around, the trait of being silly is still lingering in me.