Easter Sunday is usually an uneventful holiday around the Jenkins household. A trip to the parents house where the dogs play and my wife and I chitchat with the parents is about as exciting as it got. That is until my little nephew came along.
Let me give you some background on the little guy. First, and most important, he shares my name, only the poor guy is called by my middle name (a name that will never be mentioned in this column). Of course, sharing my name means he will be blessed with good looks, intelligence, wit, charm, athletic ability, self-confidence and many more amazing traits that would take all day to list.
However, being nearly 2, his most notable trait right now is being hilarious. Take the little guy's love for Easter eggs. First we would hide the eggs (and by hide I mean lay them in the middle of the yard) and he would race me to each and every one. Once he made sure that he had them all in his basket and I didn't have any, he would make us hide them again so he could beat me to each and every one again.
Of course, after we all had icicles hanging off our noses thanks to the global cooling that apparently is taking place across the country we had to go inside. Then it was time to open the eggs.
With every egg the little guy shook he acted as if he was getting the greatest toy ever invented. "Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh," was heard EVERY time he picked up an egg. What was in these eggs? Just chocolate (which he doesn't like) or a couple of pennies, but the little guy didn't care. He was just excited to be get anything different.
It got me thinking a little bit. Maybe it's age but I don't really get excited anymore. Sure if I ever hit a home run in softball I would do a little dance on each base, but there is a better chance of a flock of pigs flying into my back yard. I might even get excited if I got a big screen television, but that isn't going to happen either.
How cool would it be if we had the excitement of a 21-month-old all the time? Just imagine walking to the mailbox and opening the door. "Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh, it's my electric bill." Or "Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh, I've got jury duty." Or how about, "Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh, Sarcasm De Jour is in today's paper?"
And what if we were like my nephew and got excited to put a couple pennies in his piggy bank instead of complaining that we only have a couple pennies to put in our bank.
Unfortunately we can never get the excitement we had as young children back. Of course on the bright side, at least we no longer have to wear diapers. I suppose that's a fair trade.