247. Stay Humble

Today we’re celebrating the harsh but humbling experience of interacting with children. 

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

If you ever need to be humbled, spend time with a child.

A baby will look into your soul and decide – quite quickly – whether or not they want to be held by you. They will judge a book by its cover and they will scream themselves pink if they do not like the cut of your jib. Because they can’t verbalize what, exactly about you is unsettling, you’ll be left to wonder all day what exactly set them off: was it your scent? Your face? Your soul? Something deep down about you that only they can see? Or were they hungry and tired and in need of whatever pheromone their mother – sitting on the other side of the couch – was telegraphing off her exhausted body.

It’s hard to say.

A toddler will invite you to play, and then tell you exactly how you’re doing it wrong. The restaurant they’re running is not the kind of restaurant you’re familiar with, where you sit down and order food and someone brings it to you and then you eat it and pay. This restaurant is the kind where you, the patron, are expected to forage for LEGO, present it to the chef for inspection, and then sit back while she hits it with a hammer. How could you not know that?

A kindergartner might tell you “I like that shirt” or they might say “I don’t like pink” as though you selected your outfit to intentionally offend their sensibilities.

A grade schooler can show you a new way of doing math that will make your brain hurt.

A high schooler has just discovered a new band…called Fleetwood Mac. Have you heard of them? They’re pretty good. 

I love these moments because I remember these ages, and I remember adulthood feeling so far removed from my reality. Adults felt like alien visitors from another planet. A planet filled with taxes and “stress” and PTO and really intense interpersonal relationships. And every time I interact with a kid, I know I feel closer to their age than they do mine. I know that they don’t think of me as anything other than an interloper in their world. The absolute disinterest of children is what I need, often. Because our world IS SO BORING AND WE TAKE IT SO SERIOUSLY! 

Go get humbled.

CREDITS.