WHAT WOULD YOU SAY TO YOUR 16 YEAR OLD SELF?

There are so many times in life when you wish you could back and "re-do" incidents.

You wish you knew things sooner.

You realize how much easier it could have gone.

And somehow you wonder why the smarts never seem to show up until years after you need them.

And as a parent, you try as hard as you possibly can to pass on the knowledge you've gained to your kids.... and it doesn't work.

Because youth know that adults simply DON'T UNDERSTAND.

Is there any way around this?

LEVELS OF JOY

Most of us have an inner child.

Some of us are born old souls.

However, please let me describe the ranges of age displayed by my 28 year old daughter in about six hours today:

Age 2: Sheer and complete joy when told you are going to a movie.

Age 6: The frustration of trying to get both shoes on while someone is waiting for you.

Age 9: Pride at being able to purchase a movie ticket on your very own.

Age 13:  Beginning to cry when mommy won't give you enough to buy popcorn also.

Age 15: Embarrasment by your mom picking you up outside the mall after the movie ends.

Age 18: Telling your mom the movie's entire plot to the point of being annoying.

Age 14: Trying to defend the disaster that your apartment is in, and mom has been cleaning the entire time you've been at the movie.

Age 10: Putting away, with loud and violent protest, five items mom had left for you to take care of.

Age 4: Dissolving into tears when being told what must be cleaned up before tomorrow.

I feel as though I have aged years.

SERENDIPITY

Did you know that the word "serendipity" was coined from phrase used in a fairy tale by an Horace Walpole, a British writer and politician (dangerous combination) in the 1700s?

There, don't you feel smarter, knowing that?

Yesterday was an example of serendipitousness.

My church's youth group has an annual Mud Football every summer out at my place. I tear up about a quarter acre of land, soak it for nine to ten days solid, and then allow 40-60 teenagers to spend a couple of hours having more physical contact between the sexes than is allowed in any other church activity we sponsor.

But, obviously, to rip up that much land, I need to rely on machinery rather than brute strength (with a shovel and my 54 year old back, I would need to begin as soon as the game is over to have it ready for neat year).

So I borrow my neighbor's tractor and furrowing attachment.

Here is where the serendipitousness begins.

Cherie is the perfect neighbor. And I mean PERFECT.

She knows just about everything about EVERY animal - she knows when I should call the vet, or just borrow something from her medicinal stash - she is someone I can call at 2 a.m. when I can't get hold of the border patrol or the county sheriff - her kids have taken care of MY animals for years when I am in California or Hawaii (really, people, where else do I go?).

And she has a tractor. A big and REAL John Deere tractor. Which I borrow every year. And sing the "Green Acres" theme song the entire time I am using it to plow the mud football field.

I do feel guilty every year when I call Cherie, after not talking to her over the past year any more than 12 minutes, and ask to borrow the tractor and the attachment. - but only for about 14 seconds (I have an extremely high guilt threshold).

But this year - it just happened that she was helping out a friend with a personal emergency, was going to be probably overnight, and wanted to make certain her kids had several contact numbers JIC (just in case).

And, therefore, I was one of those numbers she needed, just at that particular moment when I was calling to ask HER to borrow the tractor.

Guilt, be GONE!