Small things

My children constantly remind me that it's not the big stuff I do that matters.
Don't get me wrong. They love big stuff. Big EXPENSIVE stuff. They would not turn down any large noisy toy. Ever.
But they enjoy small things that we take for granted.
Bug loves to blow dandelion seeds.
Boo loves to watch The stars come out at night.
Punk loves a piece of paper rubbed on the floor.
Free root beer floats? They're there.
Popcorn and a video? Those are my spuds on the couch.
A childrens pool on a hot afternoon? Splish, splash baby!
Homemade ice cream sundaes? Oh yeah.
Growing up makes you forget the simple joy of things we loved as children. Wishing upon stars, splashing in puddles, dancing in the rain.
Snowball fights and forts used to provide hours of entertainment. Now its just a reminder of cold bones and the sniffles.
Having children reminds us how to be young, even as our joint creaks and our backs ache.
They remind us to dance without inhibition and to sing into our hairbrush. They remind us how much fun a soap bubble beard is or how nice it is to chase bubbles on a windy day.
And they remind us how to laugh--deep, hard, belly laughs that shake our bodies and bring tears to our eyes.
Yes, they cause gray hairs, worry lines and ulcers.
Yes, they bankrupt us and steal away the middle section of our lives by needing rides to sports games, activities, friends house, by needing us at teacher conferences and field trips.
Yes, they demand a lot.
But what they give back?
Priceless.