You may be saying to yourself, "Karen, if you want to act more like a 2 year old, I'm going to have to re-evaluate the true value your friendship brings to my life." Which is totally fair. I am not saying that behaving like a 2 year old would be pleasant to those around me, but it would be incredibly nice for me.
First of all, I wouldn't care that I had a tummy that sticks out like a basketball. For one thing, by the morning it will be gone (reminiscent of the famous Churchill quote). For another, the tummy would be so cute it would actually add to my appeal.
I would be able to throw tantrums whenever I felt like it, regardless of how unreasonable the trigger was. Cafeteria is out of wheat bagels? I would burst into tears, run to the wall, fling my head against it and wail wholeheartedly for about 90 seconds and then turn around, smiling, tears still on my face, and go about my business.
I really wouldn't give a rat's ass what you thought about me, my appearance or my interests. I would be able to set aside any difficulties of the day to pay full, 150% attention to a Disney cartoon and get MORE delight out of it every time, no matter how many times I watched it.
I wouldn't eat my vegetables. You couldn't make me and, what's more, the fact that it was The Right Thing To Do and Good For Me wouldn't factor into my decision at all. I just wouldn't do it. And if you tried to make me, I would bawl like you were tearing my fingernails out with rusty tweezers until the MOMENT you stopped bothering me about broccoli, at which point I will instantaneously be happy again because I got what I wanted. I wouldn't just be halfway happy because I was harboring a little grudge, or because I still had that whole potty-training thing hanging over my head or a doctor's visit the next day. I'm completely unaware of those things until the moment they are happening to me, anyway. It would be like a switch: broccoli = unhappy, no broccoli = happy.
A bit of chocolate would solve pretty much any problem.
I could spend a good portion of my afternoon napping. The longer I napped, the happier the people around me would be.
I would never look in the mirror and make judgments. What I saw there would utterly fascinate me, and yet I'd really have no opinion about my reflection one way or another. If I discovered a booger hanging out of my nose, well, that would just make it all the more interesting. It wouldn't occur to me to wonder or care how long it had been there.
I would get a SHIT TON of presents at Christmas.
I wouldn't care if you took a picture of me naked. In fact, I'd look so freaking cute naked, even if I understood society expected me to be shy about my body I still wouldn't care.
If my boss asked me to take on a project that was unappealing or too menial I would stomp all the way back to my office, back rounded, arms swinging loosely, head flung back and whining at high volume, "But I don't WANT TO!" over and over until I lost interest in expressing myself.
...and the number one reason I wish I could be more like my toddler is:
I could announce proudly to everyone within earshot my simplest accomplishments, such as, "I made a poop!" and be met with applause.
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