Then one snatches a toy belonging to the other. There's pushing and shoving. Then tears. And screaming.
Yet five minutes later they're happily playing. Sharing candy. As if nothing occurred.
I'm pretty sure that neither awoke the next morning thinking of revenge. Nor did they have a bubbling resentment.
When do we lose this capacity to be spontaneous? To live in the moment? To be present every magical second?
Perhaps the world of responsibility takes it from us. Wants us to act serious. To think about the future. To fret about work and school.
I reflected on this at a meeting this morning while listening to a youngster - sober for two days - talk of plans for the future. Her mind was way down the road. In a place where things would be wonderful when she had job, car, apartment and other stuff.
And I thought she might look at her life at the moment. She might revel in being out of her addiction and in the light of recovery. She is saved from herself. Yet she's not present to enjoy it.
Life is lived here and now. That's not say we shirk our grown up responsibilities to stay in these moments of bliss.
But it might be nice to stop and visit ourselves once in a while.
