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I’m obsessed with being a kid. Not with being childish, but with that pre-K excitement that only a shiny “Great Job” sticker can bring. I try to equate this kind of obsession to a mid-teen crisis of sorts, or a childhood “Bucket List”, considering I have barely six months of legal childhood left.

But, in reality, it is actually a very healthy thing I have grown to appreciate, something I try to playfully flick at others in my life.

It is simply a child’s view of the world.

Now I don’t mean we should all throw tantrums in the cereal aisle at WalMart. I mean that we should appreciate everything in life with a pristine and slightly impractical enthusiasm. So what if a broccoli casserole just exploded in your oven? Did you have fun making it? Are you mature enough to order pizza and clean up the mess?

I hope so.

Are you enough of a child to laugh it off, smear a little of it on your nose, take a goofy picture, and giggle every time you open the file on your desktop?

That would be nice, wouldn’t it?

At a time in my life when being “grown up” is no longer encouraged, but mandated, I find myself clutching at old, familiar things while contemplating new wisdoms like a seven-year-old contemplates his new, “big kid” bike. It’s a strange type of growing, no longer upward toward the sky but inward toward the heart, no longer wishing for more trees to climb, but wondering at how many I have climbed, and at how many I have yet to discover.

Being a grown-up is a tough responsibility, and sometimes we scribble right on top of it, never realizing that it came and wondering later where it went. The most important thing to do, then, is never to grow so old that we forget to grow up and remember to retain the innocence of childhood. A child wishes to be older, appreciates his youth, and cherishes the smallest details of life.

When you can truly view life like a child, you are able to see, hear, and feel life as it’s happening, and experience true generosity.

Of course, there can be a few side effects.

Thinking like a kid can lead to extensive coloring book collections, Disney Princess lunch boxes, and pink painted tiaras made from soda bottles and hot glue. But I’m okay with this. It’s a cushion of sorts, absorbing the new discoveries of my shiny new adult mind with a gentle cuddle, covering them with “Finding Nemo” rub-on tattoos, and tucking them safely away.

It’s a pretty nifty thing. I like it.

So I have learned to smile for no reason, to hum “Under the Sea” while doing laundry, and to make every day of growing up a special adventure.

Relax. Laugh. Enjoy.

Because every minute is important. Live it with fervor. Live it genuinely.

Live it like a kid.