Never Outgrow Goofy

Today my grandbaby walked into my house, and this is how I greeted him. Sitting in my recliner. Dressed as a Muppet. Just waiting.

Because apparently this is the kind of grandma I have become.

Lately, I have been writing a novel about a woman who is trying to figure out who she is after spending most of her life being someone's daughter, wife, mother, and now grandma.

Somewhere in the middle of writing it, I gave her a line about being goofy. About how growing older shouldn't mean we have to lose that part of ourselves. Apparently, I decided to conduct some field research.

There is something wonderfully freeing about getting older and realizing I don't actually have to become more serious. I can be a grandma and an author and a teacher and all the other things I have collected along the way, and I can still sit in a recliner dressed like a Muppet just to see my grandbaby's face when he walks through the door.

Maybe that's part of knowing who you are, too. Not reinventing yourself. Not leaving all the old versions of yourself behind. Just making room for all of them: responsible me, professional me, and the completely ridiculous woman who thought, You know what would be funny? If I dressed like a Muppet and just sat here.

I hope my grandbaby remembers a lot of things about me someday. But I really hope one of them is that you are never too old to be goofy.