This week, the Graceful Mistress of the Parish House and Sincerely Yours had the privilege of attending our youngest granddaughter’s second birthday party. He wanted to go to his third birthday party, but he wasn’t old enough yet. So I will have to wait another year.
On the way home we sat in silence thinking about the party we had just attended. It just doesn’t seem possible that we will have eight grandchildren. I broke the silence with a small comment to this effect. “I’m just not old enough to be a grandfather to eight grandchildren. I don’t feel old enough to be a grandfather.”
A rather sarcastic giggle came from the other passenger in the car, if I say so myself.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I replied.
“Well,” he said slowly, as if he was trying to collect his thoughts and use the right words, “trust me, putting all feelings aside, you’re old enough.”
I didn’t really know what he meant by that, and I was afraid that if I asked him he would tell me. I quickly changed the subject and said, “Didn’t Jordin look cute with birthday cake all over her face?”
She laughed.
Then I thought I was talking to myself, but apparently I said it out loud, at least loud enough for my wife to hear. “I wonder what it’s like to be two.”
“Get ready,” my wife said with a laugh in her voice, “you are about to enter your second childhood.”
At the time, I was quite annoyed by the comment, but after further reflection, I don’t see anything wrong with that. After all, what’s wrong with enjoying childhood a second time?
I really don’t think it’s possible to enjoy childhood the first time. There are so many things to interfere.
First of all, parents constantly tell you what to do or what not to do. Telling you when to go to bed. Telling you when to get up in the morning. Telling you when to eat. Telling you what to eat. Counting … counting … counting …
How the hell can anyone enjoy life when people are always telling them what to do? The problem is that, when a person is two years old, he has absolutely no influence against authoritarian parents. The only thing the two-year-old can do to beat his parents is to wait until they are at the grocery store with a lot of people around and then throw a tantrum.
Here is the advantage of entering your childhood for the second time. No one is around to tell you what to do or what not to do. You are alone, at least in this area. Of course, in your second childhood it is not possible to have a tantrum in a public supermarket and get away with it.
The advantage of having a second childhood is that you have all that experience behind you to use to your advantage that a two-year-old could not possibly have. This in itself covers a multitude of sins.
“What’s wrong with your husband?” Someone can ask my wife.
“Oh,” she answers mechanically, “he’s in his second childhood.”
“I understand, my husband is there too.”
And all is well with the world.
In a person’s early childhood, their perspective is quite limited. You don’t know what you are missing. But during early childhood, you have the benefit of knowing this and using it for your own personal gain.
For example, when the parents of a two-year-old take him to a restaurant, he is completely at the mercy of the parents.
“Eat your veggies,” the parents demand, “then you can have dessert.”
There is nothing the two-year-old can do right now. After all, whoever pays the bill can say who does what.
Now, as I enter my second childhood, I have the advantage of knowing that all that nonsense about eating your veggies first is just that … nonsense. And, since I’m paying the bill, I’ll eat the desert when I want to eat it. In fact, I’ll start with dessert and finish with dessert. And since I’m on the subject, if I don’t want to order vegetables, I won’t order any vegetables.
There have been many times when my wife and I go out to a restaurant and she orders a well-balanced meal, while I order dessert.
“Do you know that vegetables are good for you?” my wife will insist.
“I don’t know anything about that,” I reply.
The two-year-old believes it when his parents tell him that vegetables are good for him, especially green vegetables. But someone like me, who is enjoying the second round of his childhood, knows that this is not entirely true. And it’s not true that I have to clean my plate before I can eat my dessert.
As a mature man enjoying his second childhood, I don’t have to believe everything people tell me. If dessert wasn’t good for me, why in the world does it taste so good to me?
I have good biblical evidence that God is on my side here. In the Psalms I read about God, “Who satisfies your mouth with good things, and your youth is renewed like that of an eagle” (Psalm 103: 5 KJV).
God has my best interest in mind for the longest period of time.