Second Childhood

I love toy castles and stuffed animals, dolls and tiny furniture. I prefer children's literature. I like swings and sidewalk art. I take out my wand and do "magic." I dress up--even when grandkids aren't around. I went out in the front yard last Sunday evening and invited the little neighbor boy to come over and toss ladybug-beanbags at the painted sunflower board with me. (Pretty soon his 3 other brothers had joined us). When we travel, I like to visit toy stores. In Portland, I bought a stuffed bush baby and a hedgehog. I spend hours every few weeks changing the outfits on all my dolls. The only thing that worries me about this is that I have apparently passed on this eternal childhood syndrome to certain of my kids. I'm not sure their spouses completely appreciate it. But one thing for sure, I know how to have fun with nothing more than a big box (I just need a bigger box than I used to). Surely that's not all bad?