After my rambling through the Argos catalogue the other day, plus my realisation that I'm now more interested in things towards the front than towards back... I was taken by surprise today when a handful of NERF darts went whizzing over my head.
It seems that six-year olds are not the only target market for these plastic weapons; they're also popular with grown-up software developers.
A small understated war is currently going on between the Beards and the T-Shirts.
It's got me wondering: am I too serious? Last year, while packing away the keyboard at the Christmas lunch, it occurred to me that I just couldn't bring myself to join in with the paper aeroplane fight that broke out across the tables. It seemed so childish, almost pathetic really, and yet everybody was enjoying themselves - but I'm not sure I was.
Am I the voice of grown-up reason or just a sour old curmudgeon who sits in the corner muttering about what's appropriate?
I can't work that out. I want to be more fun - genuinely, I want to be able to sit on the swings or propel myself down the big slide without feeling judged, or even judging myself. I want to be crazy sometimes, to let go and be outrageous... but I also don't want to lose my dignity - somewhere between being 7 and being 37 I've told myself that that's more important. Is it?
Juxtaposed with that question is the ongoing feeling that deep on the inside, I haven't really grown up at all - that this game of adulthood has gone on far too long and we all know we're all pretending anyway while we file our taxes and honk our car horns.
The conundrum is probably simpler than that though. I think I want to join in the fun, and I'm annoyed that I can't, or that I didn't think of it, or worse, that I let my dignity-seeking grown-up head stop me.
If it snows this winter, I hope I'll be straight out there without thinking about it, rolling up snowballs with the rest of them.
The only question is... am I a Beard or a T-Shirt?
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