This is Why I Cannot be Left to My Own Devices

So I'm exiting my car the other day and spot something stuck to one of my trees. Upon closer inspection I discover that I've found a little treasure - you might not think so but my 8-year-old self puts up a good argument - I found a cicada shell! Abandoning my keys and purse on the hood of my car I go on a search and wind up with four more.



At this point I'm pretty proud of myself and immediately look for some neighborhood kids to brag to before I remember that I'm not eight anymore. Slightly deflated I line my prize up on my porch with a sigh and try to figure out what to do. Cicadas shells do make for WONDERFUL practical jokes but if I stick one more on my husband's shirt I'm sure to have a court date. (Not really - he's a terribly good sport.)

So I'm staring at my little army when tension erupts. GLADIATOR WAR! AAAAUUUGGGHHH!


I was concerned that the three observers would join in on the death match, but instead, they choose sides and show their support by cheering and forming a pyramid.


By now I'm thinking to myself, Cole, you're going to be 30-years-old in six months. What the heck are you doing playing with bug shells?

And the answer came to me in the form of one of my all time favorite quotes:

“We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”
~George Bernard Shaw~

I'm a writer because I love to play and have a big (sometimes TOO big) imagination. If I didn't allow myself to give in to the games and silliness, then I'd be in the wrong career field and pretty darn miserable.

So how about it, writer friends: When's the last time you played?