Go ahead. Be weird.
Go ahead and be that parent that goes down the little slides at the park. The one that chases their child through the equipment. That weaves through the swings and rolls in the grass. Join them in their play. Let fellow parents think you’re weird.
Go ahead and stick your tongue out at the dinner table. Make silly faces at each other while you wait for your food. Pull your ears and puff out your cheeks. Clear the salt and pepper shakers, the ketchup and vinegar bottles; and play table football with a balled up straw wrapper. Let other diners think you’re weird.
Go ahead let them run naked. Let them climb up the slide and go down the steps in the buff. Let them play in the sand box and get sandy in their hair. Let them run through the sprinkler. Let them experience true freedom. Let the neighbors think you’re weird.
Go ahead and skip through the store singing a tune, bobbing your heads in unison. Let your kid lead the way in melody and follow suit. Sing out of key. Turn a solo into a duet, or a harmony. Let shoppers think you’re weird
Go ahead and show your kids how to live. How to have fun. Show them adulthood isn’t just work with little or no play. Go ahead and be a kid again. Go ahead. Be weird.