Admit it, you’ve lost the childlike ability to play. Your imitation ran wild and the sky wasn’t even the limit. As a kid, brooms and mops were wild stallions, and mud pies tasted like, … well, mud pies (yes, I did, someone had to). For some reason time mutated, brooms and mops became brooms and mops, and mud pies remain mud pies – never to be baked under the sun again. With this loss of imagination there was a tempering of creativity and adventurism. Maturity and physical growth tend to go hand in hand to a point, but the desire to play does it really go away?
The the mind begins to become overrun with mature socializations rather than creative, imaginative endeavors as our lives become focused on mature obligations. Only to return when we encounter children at play. A red ball, balloon returnsthe heart to a forgotten time of kick the can. A simpler, seemingly stress less time.