Best Day Ever
Yesterday was the best day ever.
Not for me, for my daughter.
What made yesterday the best day ever? Her dad came home from a business trip and we got to go to the airport to pick him up.
Go figure.
Not long ago, my son's best day ever consisted of me playing baseball with him in the back yard. And another best day ever was when my daughter got into cake decorating class. And when my son scored 6 goals in one soccer game. And when he got his basketball uniform. And when Meems lost her first tooth. And the day we got to go to Chuck E. Cheese's for a birthday party. And the day my son got his guitar. And the day her grandmother painted her toenails green. GREEN!! And the day it snowed 12 inches and we didn't have school. And the other time it snowed 12 inches and we didn't have school. And Christmas...birthdays...movie nights...any day with cupcakes or Slurpees...
So many best days. Best days ever.
Sigh. Why can't I have so many best days ever? Why do I feel the need to compartmentalize my best days into main events that contain personal significance? Or rationalize why my best day ever should have that distinction? My wedding. Each of my children's births. The day I landed my dream job. Surely they can't all be best day evers? That just doesn't make sense. I mean, best day ever means just that -- the best DAY ever. Singular.
Maybe I should take a cue from my children and just...you know...live in the moment, on a grand scale, the way they do.
Maybe we all should. Stop saving up our "best day ever" title for something that REALLY matters but probably hasn't happened yet, and instead, recognize it when it happens. Delight in the moment, and then move on to the next best day ever. And the next one.
I'd like more best days ever. Wouldn't you?
Not for me, for my daughter.
What made yesterday the best day ever? Her dad came home from a business trip and we got to go to the airport to pick him up.
Go figure.
Not long ago, my son's best day ever consisted of me playing baseball with him in the back yard. And another best day ever was when my daughter got into cake decorating class. And when my son scored 6 goals in one soccer game. And when he got his basketball uniform. And when Meems lost her first tooth. And the day we got to go to Chuck E. Cheese's for a birthday party. And the day my son got his guitar. And the day her grandmother painted her toenails green. GREEN!! And the day it snowed 12 inches and we didn't have school. And the other time it snowed 12 inches and we didn't have school. And Christmas...birthdays...movie nights...any day with cupcakes or Slurpees...
So many best days. Best days ever.
Sigh. Why can't I have so many best days ever? Why do I feel the need to compartmentalize my best days into main events that contain personal significance? Or rationalize why my best day ever should have that distinction? My wedding. Each of my children's births. The day I landed my dream job. Surely they can't all be best day evers? That just doesn't make sense. I mean, best day ever means just that -- the best DAY ever. Singular.
Maybe I should take a cue from my children and just...you know...live in the moment, on a grand scale, the way they do.
Maybe we all should. Stop saving up our "best day ever" title for something that REALLY matters but probably hasn't happened yet, and instead, recognize it when it happens. Delight in the moment, and then move on to the next best day ever. And the next one.
I'd like more best days ever. Wouldn't you?
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