It is 9:30 p.m. That's two hours past Julia's normal bedtime. She is still awake. Christopher just went in to check on her. When he came out, he reported that she told him she can't sleep: she's "too excited" about the fact that her class is making soup tomorrow at preschool.
OK. Admittedly, some of why she's not sleeping is because this afternoon the earth tilted mysteriously on its axis and she took a nearly three-hour nap. But, people: doesn't a small part of you sort of wish you were three years old again, when the prospect of making a collaborative soup (each kid gets to bring an ingredient! only we got assigned the spoons! not very exciting! but oh so necessary!), in conjunction with reading the book "Stone Soup", to celebrate a non-specific but still festive "Feast Day" at nursery school, was so deliciously exciting that you couldn't sleep because of it?
There are very few things so exciting they keep me awake at night. (There are plenty of things that keep me awake at night, but very few things that keep me awake because they are joyously exciting.)
I guess I'm a grown-up.
I wish making soup thrilled me to my wide-awake bones.