Frolic

Frolic; can’t remember the last time I had occasion to use that word. Come to think of it I’m not sure I ever used it. Hope that doesn’t say something about me. It doesn’t make any difference because today I have reason to use it. The edges of my lip are arching slightly upward in anticipation. It’s probably barely perceptible to most, but a milestone for me.
It’s a delightful spring afternoon and I’ve just had a matinee date with my lovely bride of forty years. Yes, matinee because I experience some eyelid problems at the later shows. The show we enjoyed is a treat from Disney simply called “Earth.” If you’re into nature, I’d highly recommend it. What a delight!
The cinematography is breathtaking and the nature scenes amazing as the producers and directors scout the globe. Penguins, lions, walruses, cranes, elephants, schools of sardines, and an amazing assortment of other wildlife peak your fantasy. The most memorable portions to me involve “young-uns” of many species frolicking. I could hardly contain myself watching eight young ducklings crash landing from a height of what appeared to be about thirty feet after their fledgling wings appear to fail or at least not work right. Then there were the pair of polar bear cubs who had a mind of their own and little navigational or obedience instincts or skills. I also felt like tickling the young whale who showed off by swimming on its back using up the energy produced by a daily ration of 150 gallons of high-fat mother’s milk. I don’t want to spoil your personal viewing pleasure so I’ll not describe any more.
After the show, we relished the warm afternoon breeze sitting at wrought iron tables in an upscale outdoor mall. We were enjoying each other’s company and what at a cheaper establishment would simply be called a small coffee and hot chocolate. We were in a prime spot close to a concrete circle about twenty feet in diameter. It was slightly concave with eighteen strategically placed water jets and a drain in the center. The jets would erupt with streams of water in sometimes a rhythmic and sometimes an erratic pattern. Five young folks aged from about eighteen months to perhaps three and a half years old and their white Scottish terrier dog were having the time of their lives as they cavorted in the streams of water. They were thoroughly soaked and oblivious to their growing enrapt audience. One red headed, well freckled young lass of less than two danced with abandon while rhythmically trying to stamp out the erupting jets of water. Another young gentleman of about the same age pulled his pants back far enough to make a big pocket so that he could catch the water on his posterior. It was interesting seeing people’s expressions when they encountered this amazing show, especially the mothers with kids. One frowning mother suddenly broke into an impish grin and permitted her surprised young son to march into the midst of this watery delight, shoes and all.
Those of us watching, especially the grandparents, were rapidly progressing from a slight, barely perceptible, twinkles to grins and even some outright laughter. When the mother in charge of the five original children and dog finally marched her troops past me, I couldn’t help but express my heartfelt gratitude. Thanks to a very caring parent and inspired uninhibited kids I, along with a host of other folks, have a memory that I won’t soon forget. The world will wait if you’d like to frolic a bit. Go ahead; it’s OK and probably good for you, too.