I went for a run this morning at our local middle school.
There was a youth soccer game in progress on the field in the middle of the track and a couple of little boys were tussling on the sidelines. At first, I thought they were fighting, but as I got closer it became clear that what I had mistaken for cries of distress were actually squeals of delight. They couldn’t have been much older than three, yet apparently they had just invented the funnest game in the history of funness. It went something like this:
Step 1: Grab your friend in a tight bear hug.
Step 2: Wiggle around in a random and increasingly violent fashion, while maintaining your embrace and screaming at the top of your lungs.
Step 3: Lose your balance and tumble to the ground, laughing hysterically.
Step 4: Take the minimum amount of time necessary to catch your breath, then spring back to your feet.
Step 5: Repeat.
I had to stop my run just to watch them. Seldom have I seen such exuberant, inextinguishable glee emanating from another human being — much less two. I can’t recall any personal experience, at least not with my fading middle-aged memory, that has even come close. And when I look at my life right now, it feels like a Soviet-era documentary compared to the bliss-riot that was unfolding on that field right before my eyes.
It led me to one undeniable conclusion: grown-ups are bad at play.
What passes for play in adults is kind of sad. Not that there’s anything wrong with book groups, or dinner parties, or fantasy football leagues. They all have their place. It’s just that real play — the kind two little boys make up while they’re not watching their older brothers play soccer, is so much more impressive.
Let’s consider the true genius of the “Hug-Wiggle-Plop” game. First of all, it’s entirely original. There’s nothing like novelty to amp up the dopamine hit in any activity. Also, it’s accessible to everyone. You don’t have to buy an Xbox or a PlayStation. You don’t have to pay a registration fee. You don’t need private lessons, or a new set of expensive gear that you’re going to outgrow in three months. All you need is a willing co-wiggler and a landing surface a little softer than concrete.
Another advantage is that it doesn’t have to be entered into your calendar with precisely predetermined start and end times. You just do it when you feel like it, and you stop when you run out of wiggle.
So let’s review: it’s cheap, it’s inclusive, it’s social, it’s creative, and it’s spontaneous. And, oh yeah — it’s really, really, really fun!
I’ve heard so many parents complain that kids don’t seem to just play anymore. Well, who’s bleeping fault do you think that is? Who’s signing them up for day camps and summer classes and after-school programs? Who’s planning out their play dates, and scheduling their activities down to the nearest quarter of an hour? Who’s making kids’ lives look more and more like grown-ups’ lives, and kid activities look more and more like grown-up pastimes? Somehow, I don’t think it’s the kids.
Maybe it’s time we put play back into the hands of the real experts. As a matter of fact, maybe we should consider hiring them as consultants. For your next corporate retreat, why not bring in the groundbreaking design team behind “Hug-Wiggle-Plop?” Can’t you just imagine them working with Harold in sales, or Janice in accounting?
“Okay, can you explain the wiggle part again?”
“You just wiggle — like this.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah. But don’t make that face.”
“What face?”
“That face.”
“This is the only face I know how to make.”
“Okay. Then just wiggle more.”
I predict Q3 earnings would skyrocket.
On the other hand, I’m not sure I want to adulterate kids’ play with, you know, adults. Maybe the best thing would be to just leave them alone. Put them out in the sunshine, on a grassy field, and make believe you aren’t watching them. But pay attention. They know things we forgot a long time ago, and if we give them the time and the freedom to do what they do best, they’ll show us the way.
More Dad Next Door columns can be found here.
