Last week I was reminded of a story I hadn’t thought of in a long time. While I chatted about writing with a new writer friend, they asked about my kids. They’d met my middle monkey because she was working as an actress in a project they were part of. So I told them about my son. He’s easy to describe…crazy fast, super-athletic, way smarter than me. Then I thought for a minute about how to describe my youngest. She’s a pistol; a little bundle of passion, which bursts from within her in alternating explosions of tears and hugs. No one get’s more angry at the injustice of having to wear a dress when she’d rather wear a kitty t-shirt and her favorite gray leggings with the hole in the hiney. I wasn’t sure how to verbalize a description that would do her justice, so instead I shared a story that I believe sums her spirit up rather perfectly.
When she was around 3 years-old, she and my older daughter had a couple little friends over. I was in the kitchen downstairs, while the girls tore through the dress-up bin upstairs. After they’d each chosen their own costume, they told me to watch as they walked down the steps, one by one, announcing who they were.
“I’m Cinderella,” my older daughter declared sashaying down the steps, each piece of her Disney costume perfectly in place.
“I’m Snow White,” the next girl said.
“I’m Sleeping Beauty,” said the next.
Then my youngest rounded the corner at the top of the steps, wearing a hodgepodge of random clothes that included Spiderman gloves, leg warmers, and scarves oddly tied around various parts of her body. “I’m Bob,” she said, in her best boy voice.
That’s my baby girl…she’s Bob. And I love it! If I’m being honest, I’m Bob most of the time, too. While other mom’s are heading off on girl’s weekends to scrapbook or do other “normal” mom stuff, I’m packing up a bag of ghost hunting supplies so I can sit in a dark basement, talking into the air, desperately hoping I might get to chase a shadow figure down the hallway.
I love my little Bob, and I’m totally cool with being Bob myself. Because Bob is anyone and anything you feel inside. Bob is that part of you that most of us stuff away after we start seeing what the world expects us to be.
Listen, it’s totally cool to fit into those expectations if it feels comfortable to do so. Gosh, if we all ran around being Bob ALL the time, the bills would never get paid. But do me a favor and think back to when you were a wee-monkey who didn’t know the mold you were suppose to fit into. Take a moment of silence to celebrate the beautiful, unfettered spirit of Bob that once ruled your choices. Then choose to do one thing this week that Bob would approve of. You deserve it!
Share your Bob moment in the comments here or on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram with the hashtag #bebob (and be sure to tag me!!). I’ll draw one winner and send them an autographed copy of my newest book MONSTERS OF THE MIDWEST!
Now go…be Bob!!
He’s watching you!!