If I could be anyone for a day, who would I choose to be? A revered doctor performing a delicate operation? An elite runner completing the Boston Marathon in under three hours? A headliner at the half-time show at the Super Bowl? Nah. None of the above. If I could be anyone for a day, I would be — a baby.
Has
anyone told you lately that your double chins are cute? Or that your roly-poly
tummy and your flabby thighs are adorable? Not only do babies get to be fat
without the added weight of social stigma, but they get complimented on their
rotundness.That’s right. No one says to a baby, ‘you should get more
exercise.” On the contrary, they take the onus right off you, and take it upon themselves to do the job for you. Yep. As a baby, I could simply lie there
with my feet and hands in the air, and before you know it, someone would come
along and exercise me. They’d wiggle my legs and pull me up by my arms. They’d
lift my bum and turn me over. And they’d even praise me for all the hard work I
just did.
If I were
to get overly tired from that rigorous workout, I’d get to have a mid-day nap.
And if I didn’t want to stop at one nap, no one would get on my case if I
decided to shoot for two or three. Even more striking, if I then ended up with
insomnia in the middle of the night – because of all those gosh, darn naps –
I’d find someone willing to hang out with me. All I’d have to do is holler and
cry, and someone would come along to relieve me of my boredom. When was the
last time you complained at three in the morning that you couldn’t sleep, and
had a loved one rise to the occasion?
If I were
a baby for a day, I could eat with my fingers. I could belch. I could spit up
on white carpet. I could throw my supper dish. I could even drop your
new smartphone in the toilet. Now you might not be pleased, but you wouldn’t
yell at me. Who yells at a baby?
Babies
don’t know how good they have it. They get to do some really cool stuff, but
they don’t appreciate just how cool these things are. Babies get to stare at people.
They can get right up into your grill and stare away. Babies can suck their
toes while they are out visiting people. And babies can get away with wearing pyjamas to all occasions. Loose, cozy fleece onesies with built-in sleepers. It doesn’t
get better than that.
Being
close to the ground, I could fall ten times a day and not hurt myself. I could
toddle along without knee pain because my joints would be generously
lubricated. And I wouldn’t have a clue what tension headaches are all
about.
Tension?
I would never worry that my plane might be delayed. Or, God forbid, that my
plane might crash into the ocean. No, being a wee thing, I could easily stretch
out across a loved one’s lap and snooze my way across the Atlantic. The loud
humdrum of an airplane engine? Heck, I could tune that out. Jet lag, hah. I’d
stay on my schedule. Like it or lump it.
I haven’t
even got to the best part yet about being a baby. Babies smell
insanely good. No teeth equals no bad breath. When you smell that good, people
just want to hold you and kiss you and snuggle you all day long. Now, think
about that for a minute. How would your day go, if you received as many cuddles
as a baby gets in a day?
In my one
day as a baby, I would have infinite curiosity. I would explore with all my
senses. I would suck blocks and spatulas. I would pull myself up on table legs
and curbs. I would savor the sensation of my first blueberry, my first lick of
chocolate ice cream. I would listen intently to the sound of running water
and a barking dog. And I would giggle and smile at the endless marvels of the
world.
Babies
really get it. They know how to stick to the fundamentals. How to stick to the
present. How to forget about yesterday and not worry about tomorrow. A baby is,
perhaps, the most philosophical of all human beings. If I could be a baby for a
day, I would remember all that I have forgotten. I would remember how to truly seize
the day.