Adventures for the Small

One's view of the world makes all the difference.  I'm not speaking metaphorically here.  As Mimi and I palled around yesterday I couldn't help but wonder what I'd make of the world were I in her shoes.

First off, everything is huge.  In the Mimi-scaled world we all drive monster trucks, wear impossibly gigantic shoes, and store things - rather inconveniently, Mimi feels - on shelves 30 feet up.  Life must be a bit mystifying from such a perspective.

At less than three feet tall, Mimi can really stretch her food dollar.  A 59 cent roll that I'd devour in a few bites will last Mimi through the aisles of Safeway,

the entire car ride home,

and through lunch, dinner, and breakfast the next day.  That's thrifty.

At the playground, crossing the sandpit is a massive undertaking.  It's about 30 feet across, tops, but to Mimi, its the Sahara.  So I can only imagine what she thinks of the beach.

It's not exactly Laurence of Arabia, but the scale is right.  Mimi was just a spec on the horizon.  But that didn't stop her.  There was sand to play with...

and feet to clean.

Eventually, we left the soft sand and headed for firmer ground near the water.  Mimi, despite her size, is not phased by the ocean.  She loves the water and no combination of temperature, danger, or daddy disapproval will keep her from it.  Soon both our feet were freezing, but we were having a great time.  Mimi's size meant I was constantly lifting her up out of the waves as they crashed in.  Great fun for Mimi, but a bit cold for me.

Wishing we could've taken some pictures in the water (watching a toddler playing in the waves is work enough without lining up camera shots), we packed up and headed back to the car.  The walk was only 100 yards or so, but between the slippery sand and my body laden with bags, balls, towels, and toddlers, it looked well over a mile.  For Mimi, who was sitting in the crook of my right arm, it was no distance at all.  Funny, that.

We took a few extra minutes to watch the sunset, me behind the wheel and Mimi cuddled up in her car seat with a towel.  It was the first sunset I remember watching deliberately - actually taking the time just to watch the sun go down - since I was on the sea of Japan, well over five years ago.

As the sun slipped behind the sea, size became irrelevant.  We both became very, very small.  And it was great.