Growing up in a quiet suburban town, I used to love playing neighborhood games with the kids on my street. Back then, the summer days seemed to last forever and the only time you would stop playing Capture the Flag was when someone’s Mom yelled out their front door, “David! Kristen! Dinner!” My favorite memory of these simple neighborhood games was the concept of a “Do-over.” You could call a “Do-over” when someone made a stupid mistake and the game wasn’t played as well as it could have been. You were allowed (at least in my oh-so-forgiving neighborhood) at least one “Do-over.” This opportunity would allow you to replay your move and have a second chance at scoring a point or making a play that would keep the game fun, exciting, and in most cases, simply still going. Lately I’ve been thinking about what it might be like if we could all have a “Do-over” in our adult life. Let’s say we totally screwed up at work or yelled at our significant other for no apparent reason, or even went so far as to make a big mistake like quitting our job and moving away from home without realizing the consequences. What if we could call a giant “Do-over!” and get a second chance to make things right. Wouldn’t that be great? Unfortunately, life doesn’t seem to work like that anymore and although it can be a bit of a game sometimes, we are usually stuck with our decisions, good and bad, and forced to deal with their consequences with little opportunity to go back and cancel our first course of action. It’s hard being an adult and there are times, especially lately, where I long for the days of my youth when life didn’t seem so serious and our choices were much more simple…Bubble Yum or Bubbalicious, Tootsie Pop or Blow Pop, Nerds or Skittles. There is a growing part of me that just doesn’t want to let go of my youth (I’m finally beginning to understand the whole Peter Pan thing) and craves the fun adventures and youthful friendships that don’t come with all the complications and drama of adulthood. So this evening, as I stand in my kitchen wondering what to prepare for dinner and stare at the pile of bills that need to get paid, I decide to answer the phone when I see that it’s my neighbor Deborah calling. Without a moment’s hesitation, I put down the can of sloppy joe mix, grab my tennis shoes and bolt out the door… there’s an awesome game of Kick the Can starting in five minutes.
