Years ago, Lori and I went out to dinner to Joe's Crab Shack, when it still existed at the Utica Park Blvd. location (the one by Dave & Buster's, the building which is now a Red Ox Tavern). It was a warm evening, though not hot so we were wearing light jackets. I don't remember if it was spring or fall.
But it was a busy enough night to where we were waiting outside, along with other parties who were ahead of us. Among one of those parties was a little girl who was keeping herself busy while her adults were preoccupied. She was maybe 8, 10 years old. She caught our attention because she was indeed keeping herself occupied during the wait. She was examining the fixtures, the landscaping, and then was clearly wandering around, making up games in her own head.
I don't remember the exact circumstances anymore, but for some reason, she had a bucket. Maybe it contained crayons or other things, but either way, she had one. And at some point, she ended up wearing the bucket on her head while wandering around aimlessly, waiting for a table.
We thought that was awesome, because she did so without any sense of foolishness or attention-grabbing. She just did it because she wanted to. None of her adults paid her any heed.
Based on her actions, her body language, and the degree of self-assuredness she projected, we immediately knew this girl was a dork. And that is meant in the highest of complimentary ways. We chuckled and remarked to each other that one day, when we have kids, we would be blessed to have our own bucket-head girl.
That girl is Evie.
Evie is our bucket-head girl. She has zero qualms about looking or acting silly, because quite frankly, she doesn't know of such a thing. Granted, she's young enough to where she hasn't been broken down by the system, telling her "don't be so silly," "stop acting foolish." But maybe that's the point. To her, silly is fun. Foolish is a good thing, because it makes the adults in her life laugh.
Where is the harm in playing? What is to be negatively impacted if one is walking around with a bucket on one's head when one is harming no one, or disrupting another? Social norms are, of course, a complicated set of circumstances and rules. But when one is a child, why not?
Evie has put all sorts of objects on her head, and on our heads. She checks out her reflection, and smiles. She poses. She admires herself, wearing a basket on her head. She talks on a stick of cheese as if it was a cellphone. She has conversations with her stuffed animals.
She's two. She hasn't been told that she's being silly, or foolish.
In that, we adults could learn something. Within the social norms, we've, in one way or another, been told to stop playing.
To take the buckets off of our heads.
Stop having pretend conversations through inanimate objects.
That gap between the couch and the end-table is not a secret passage to a mysterious land.
There is no hidden world inside the bookshelf, so stop climbing in it.
Maybe this is why we're so angry with and mean to each other on the Internet. We've been told to stop playing so often in our real lives that out of envy, we want to make sure others don't have the fun we can't have. Because when they do, they don't seem to grasp the gravity of the horrors of reality.
But who says we have to? Why do we have this need to memorize the horrific details of every current event, whether criminal or merely salacious? Why are we not allowed to play?
What happened to our buckets?
Evie has hers (even if it's a cheap vinyl basket). I hope she never loses it.
