Giggles in the Dark

   Since we're settled in, we've been doing some cooking these days.  I feel like I am more in my element in the kitchen, and there's always that sense of pride you feel when you've helped with a meal yourself. 

   Today we were fixing a recipe called, "Baingan Curry," for lunch.  It calls for a few eggplants, a few potatoes, chopped peanuts, coconut, fresh curry leaves, mustard seed, garlic, tomatoes, sliced onions, and dhunia powder.  (Don't ask me what that is...:) 
   First you roast the onions, coconut (which you grate until you have enough to give flavor), and the peanuts.  Then you combine the onion, garlic, tomatoes, and the rest of the spices with it.  Then you fry the mixture with the potato and eggplant chunks until they're nice and brown.  Then you serve it over rice or chapattis (that's the Indian version of a tortilla ;D ).

   Here's a pic of the preparation: 

 Those are eggplants over on the right.  I've never liked eggplant before, but I had to admit as I held one in my hand that they were beautiful things.  The rich purple, just the shade of a grape from the Dream Forest, and the green tops with stems like the little caps on Santa's elves.  I wondered how something so pretty could have such a disagreeable taste. 
   Peeling them I caught the smell of them, and I was puzzled.  Why, they actually smelled good!  And yet, somehow, they don't taste good in dishes.  Huh!
  

  
      This is the coconut that S. cracked open and grated to get the coconut--dust?  :) for the recipe. 
I was tickled pink to have coconut halves in the kitchen.  And yes, when everyone left the kitchen for a moment, I caught up both halves and pranced around the kitchen making them sound like hooves, just like King Arthur and Patsy in the delightful, "Monte Python and the Holy Grail." 

   Ahem.  Moving on.  Here is a picture of the finished product.  

   So that was lunch.  After lunch I decided to lie down in the kids' room and join them as they rested.  I think I got to sleep once, but I woke up when Bud, my official younger brother, drove his remote control car straight towards my head as I laid on the pallet in their room. 
   After that I couldn't sleep.  The kids weren't being exactly loud, I just couldn't seem to sleep.  So I laid there and rested and buried myself in my thoughts.
   I was disturbed by sounds and giggles.  I looked up and saw Lulu trying to do a backbend on her bed.  Then Bud tried it.  They fell.  Then they'd giggle and try again.  I closed my eyes and tried to block it out, but I couldn't.  The giggling was getting louder.  Bud managed  to pull himself into a backbend, and now they were using their heads to hold themselves up and using their hands to slap themselves on their tummies. 
   *Gigglegigglegiggle* *Clomp*  *Gigglegiggle* *Slapslapslapslapslap*  *Clomp*  *Gigglegigglegigglegiggle* *Slapslapslapslapslapslapslap* *Clomp* *Gigglegiggle* and so on. 

   I  felt annoyed.  My nice nap was spoiled now, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.  But in spite of myself, the innocent, contagious giggles made a smile slowly spread across my face.  I watched Bud for a moment, apparantly doing a somersault on the bed, and this thought struck me:  "Oh, to be a child again." 
   The thought surprised me, but on its heels came longing.  Those sweet giggles brought flashbacks of my own childhood before my eyes, like the shadow of the past.  I remembered bedtime antics and those giggle attacks with my sisters. 
   I watched them and realized afresh that to them, this was life.  Naptime somersaults, giggling with brother, timeless playing; this was their reality.  They had no worries, no regrets, no impending fears or big decisions to deal with.  Life was simple.  I could remember when my life was like that.  Not carefree, like some adults would have us believe.  Children have their own troubles, but they sound insignificant to an adult who is used to so much more.  But still--to have that joy, that innocence, that simple pleasure.  I felt envious as I watched them.  I'm not a child anymore, but I'm not exactly an adult yet, and suddenly I felt shut out of both worlds.  I wonder if older people feel that way when life seems to go on without them. 
   I no longer felt upset at my little siblings.  I envied them.  And I want them to have that for as long as possible.  Maturing must happen, but I hope they never lose the open, playful, hopeful heart of a child. 
   I haven't, and I don't intend to. 

   "But Jesus called for them, saying, 'Permit the children to come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  Truly I say to you, whoever does not recieve the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.' "  ---Luke 18:16-17

~Cadenza