The Chicken

Im sure you can remember a toy that was so special to you when you were a child. Something that you spent hours with, and gives you warm fuzzy feelings every time you remember it. Well, that happened tonight.

We were visiting my parents this afternoon, flying kites, sitting out in the lawn, enjoying each others company, when Isaac asks if he can go into the basement. “you have never been in the basement?” I ask. “nope, never” he replied. Now you must also remember the excitement of being a child and exploring grandma and grandpas basement, attic, or garage. So this must have been a treat.

I immediately showed him the storm cellar, the “dungeon” we used to call it, where we kept all of the canned goods and stuff that we never wanted to see again, seeing that that was probably the coolest place of all.

Nope, he wanted to explore everything. So we did. Digging through old books and toys, we found the greatest one of all. The ever so loved Lite-Brite. An immediate rush of sentimentality ran through my veins as I picked up that black and white box with the clown face pegged into the black paper. I opened it, and lifted that dusty piece of my childhood out of the box.

Isaac immediately wanted to try it, and so we did.

Ahh yes, the chicken. What a lovely creature. At first we didn’t know whether to put the pink, or purple pegs where the letter P was, but found out that it didn’t matter. The toy was meant for a child’s imagination. To me, the chicken looked like some creature you would see on some packaging from China, but to a child, it was the greatest chicken that had ever been brought to life. He was so proud of it, even though I had to “help” him, because surely he couldn’t do it on his own right? I mean, I was just being a good dad by setting an example of how the pegs fit into the holes right? What kind of father would I be if I didn’t play with his toys with him?

Regardless, sometimes we as adults lose vision, creativeness, imagination..
I am just glad we have children to remind us that sometimes we can let go of our seriousness and adult reality and enjoy chickens with pink tails and purple heads.