I worry a lot about what people think of me. It's the reason it takes me so long to get dressed in the morning. It's why I fret over decisions so much. Sometimes, I throw up my hands and say, "Who really cares if I'm wearing white socks and a fleece jacket. Really?! " But most of the time I try too hard not to be the object of any one's negative attention. Which, when you think about it, is pretty fucking ridiculous.
Apparently, we don't have these problems as children. I certainly don't remember worrying so much as a kid. And I was the loudmouth in the red polka dot hat, riding my bike up and down the street on the 4th of July, throwing confetti, screaming, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMERICA!" Does it help my case to say that it was the Bicentennial? No? I didn't think so.
It makes me so happy to see the Bug getting on with her life without worrying about what people think of her. She picks out heart-print pants, purple shirts and turquoise socks to wear to school. She laughs like a maniac when she sees her friends. She sings out loud, not stopping to think that someone might hear or she might be off key. And when she runs, she runs with abandon. I pick her up from school and she runs down the hall, giggling and talking loudly the whole way. "I had a great day at school! I am RUNNING! I'm going to drink from the fountain! YAYYYYYY!" Her enthusiasm for life brightens my sleep-deprived eyes, it makes me forget all the things we have to worry about lately.
If you could see her run, you'd smile too. If the Ministry of Silly Walks needs a special Ambassador of Silly Runs, Bug is the person to call. It looks a little something like this:
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