Last night as we were getting ready to head out to swimming lessons, John and Hanna were playing the Giant game. At one point, John grabbed the hen that laid the golden eggs, and took off running saying "I have the hen!", and Hanna, who was the giant, went running after him saying "Hey, bring back my chicken!" Ha.

Swimming was fun. John wasn't too antsy, he did have a hard time sitting on the wall, but at least he stayed near the wall. Later, I played Monstro with John, where I throw him up into the air and he splashes into the water. He likes that.

Why is it that when we look back for a happier time in which to escape, we look back to our childhood? (At least if it was a happy childhood.) We had no power as children, most of our decisions were made for us. Of course, I suppose the attraction is because we had no serious responsibilities. Our work was play. It is a curious contrast, that we sometimes consider the idyllic life to be one of no responsibility, even if it means no power. Ambition in the adult world is considered the opposite, lots of power, which brings with it lots of responsibility. Perhaps that is another twist in this fallen world, that what we might think is most important is ultimately empty, and that what is of most value is something simpler, and we still carry a memory of that somewhere within us forever.