When you’re nearly seven, the oldest of three brothers, and a card-carrying “old soul,” as so many are apt to term you, you often feel pretty grown up.
So when a parent tells the aforementioned very big boy that part of his vacation will be spent at Sesame Place, I suppose he or she has to expect commentary of the following ilk:
“Sesame Place is for babies.”
“We’re only going for August. What am I supposed to do there?”
“You know they have nothing for big kids there.”
“Those characters aren’t real. They’re just people dressed up. You know that, right?”
“Maybe I should just stay in the car.”
But something happens when your youngest brother is only two and you are “forced” to frequent a place that he would enjoy. It gives a bigger boy permission to revisit his childhood. And though he really hasn’t left it yet, I think he often feels as if he has.
At Sesame Place, when no one is watching, you can forget about all the pressures and rules of being a burgeoning big kid and just be a kid. And you can splash in the water with your little brothers, pretend the characters are real, and choose a stuffed Cookie Monster as your beloved souvenir to take home.
And you can also push the pause button in this whirlwind that is childhood and catch the smiles–yours and his–that result.