I met a fifty-something-year-old guy after my presentation at a conference in Minnesota earlier this year. He told me, “My mom believed that her kids should always get a toy from her for Christmas, no matter how…”

I expected him to finish the sentence with, “…no matter how poor we were.”

But he surprised me instead with, “…no matter how old we are.”

To this day, along with other gifts, she still gets each of her adult children a toy for Christmas.

I wish she would have been there, for I would have liked to give her a hug. It takes a wise woman to know that no matter how old a person gets, they carry all the ages they’ve ever been with them. The wide-eyed, fun-loving child inside lives forever.

Although that childlike spirit can be neglected throughout the year, Christmas is the perfect time to reconnect with the hope, wonder, and joy we were filled with as children.

I asked the gentleman what his mother got him last year.

“A Lego set,” he replied.

Perfect.

It can be easy to think of country clubs as the sort of places where Adultitis might like to hang out. Granted, it’s not a windowless cube farm, but it can invite a particular strain of Adultitis that implores us to take ourselves a little too seriously and make sure we don’t get our princess dress wet.

But Chef Brian at the Rockford Country Club is a Champion of Childhood who’s keeping Adultitis on its toes. In celebration of back to school season, Brian created a menu that put some epicurean twists on old childhood favorites, a “culinary homage to cafeteria classics.” Here are some of the things he came up with:

• A beautiful, creamy, scratch-made grilled cheese & tomato soup with a grilled cheese crouton.
• A salad with bacon, pistachios and cranberry Jell-O croutons. (Yup, you read that right: Jell-O croutons!)
• Thai PB and J pork chop with jasmine rice and vegetable spring roll.
• Lobster mac & cheese. (Eat it, Kraft.)
• “Fish sticks” featuring Chilean sea bass, coated in a crunchy Goldfish cacker crust and cooked to perfection.
• A gourmet take on the classic TV dinner featuring homemade meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes, with peas and carrots, and a scratch-made brownie.

It sounds delicious to us! We need to convince Chef Brian to create the menu for our next Escape Adulthood Summit!

There are many places that might be more prone to Adultitis than others. But whether you work in a cafeteria, a country club, or the Chrysler Building, there is always room for delighting people with a little childhood fun. Kudos to this creative chef for serving up a delicious example!

What is your favorite example of a business that did a great job of incorporating the sprit of childhood into the mix?

A Champion of Childhood is someone instilled with the soaring spirit of childhood who rallies against rules that don’t exist while engaging in ruthless, senseless acts of silliness that undermine the slavery of Adultitis and its unadventurous version of adulthood. We like shining a light upon the most remarkable among us, holding them up as a dazzling example of what we should strive for in this epic battle against Adultitis. See more here.

My friend Jeanne recently turned forty. By her own estimation, her life is wonderful and filled with love. But she admitted that it didn’t seem that long ago when she thought that one of the worst things in life would be to still be single at twenty-five. No way could she imagine still being single at thirty-five. That would be HORRIBLE! And now here she was, tentatively peeking her nose out from under the covers as she awoke, still single, on the first morning of the start of her fifth decade.

Although weary of the feeling that would welcome her, she was pleasantly surprised to report nothing but fantastic, Adultitis-free feelings! And then, for good measure, she engaged in a small rebellion.

She sent herself flowers.

And she included a note, reminding herself that being 40 and single is just fine, thank you very much.

Now Jeanne admitted that at first, while she was ordering the flowers and writing the note, she felt narcissistic and even a bit wasteful. But she reported that seeing the flowers kicked Adultitis right out of her house (and the decade!), while helping her feel incredibly grateful for all of the blessings in her life.

We all need to be reminded of the blessings we have. And we all need to be encouraged from time to time.

There is no rule that those reminders and encouragements have to come from someone else, as this video clearly shows:

Yep, I think we’d all be better off if we gave ourselves pep talks and flowers every once in a while.

Last weekend, on our way out of town for a family reunion, we had a chance to participate in Small Rebellion #9: Pay It Backward. We pulled in to the McDonald’s drive-thru for some road mochas. When I rolled up to the window to pay, I told the girl that I also wanted to pay for the person behind me. Her face lit up.

“Really?” she asked.

I confirmed our request, and a minute later, she came back to the window. “I just wanted to make sure,” she began. “Their order is over $20…are you still okay with paying for it?”

“Sure!” I replied.

After we got our coffees, I drove off before I could see the reaction of the driver behind us, but the smile from the McDonald’s employee was enough to make my day. It was an unexpected surprise, and a neat reminder that generosity often spreads beyond just the giver and receiver.

Here are few other neat stories from people who have participated:

“I was at local tea shop – there were 7 ‘elderly’ women who came in and sat down for what appeared to be a weekly gathering for brunch. I asked the cashier if they were ‘regulars’ and she said yes, most of them. I didn’t know any of them, but figured their total bill wouldn’t be too cheap – easily $20 per person for specialty teas and scones/sandwiches – so I told the cashier to ring me up for $70 on top of MY current bill, and that way each of them would have $10 off THEIR bill. She was so thrilled for them – thanked me profusely and said my gesture surely will bring not only smiles to them but also blessings my way. They didn’t know I did this for them – I told the cashier not to say anything until it was time to pay, and just say that I saw their neat group and wanted to make their day in a little way.” -Sara Gast

“Did it today, and got caught! I paid for the car two cars behind me. Someone told on me. When they asked if I did it, I lied and said that I didn’t pay for their meals. (Only time you can lie) I don’t like for them to find out I did it. It ‘s so much more fun to do it incognito!!” -Mary Nuckolls

There is no deadline to this officially-sanctioned Small Rebellion…join the fun!

Imagine placing an order at a drive-thru restaurant. (And yes, you definitely want fries with that.) You pull up to the window and begin digging out some cash only to learn from the store employee that the person ahead of you already paid for your meal. Wouldn’t that make you feel amazing? If you were having a bad day up until that point, what are the odds that your mood changes?

This concept is known as “paying it backward.” It’s similar to “paying it forward,” which is the expression for describing when the beneficiary of a good deed repays it to someone else instead of the original benefactor. Paying it forward is a reaction to something that’s already happened. Paying it backward is starting the action in the first place.

And it’s definitely a small rebellion.

Your mission: pay it backward sometime this week by picking up the tab of the person directly behind you in line. It could be at a drive-thru window, a tollbooth, a vending machine, a movie theater, or at the donut shop. If you are in a situation in which you don’t know what the person behind you is going to order (say, for instance, at Starbucks), just leave an extra $5 behind.

The real magic happens when you’re already gone before the person realizes what happens and has a chance to thank you. Although it’s nice to be thanked, this feels better. It’s like getting an extra fry in your bag.

As a bonus, this is an amazingly effective way of dealing with someone who has a bad case of Adultitis. Check out this story from a woman named Kayla:

“I once pulled through into a very packed McDonald’s — the kind that has two lanes. It was very slow going and the man behind me, for some reason, was getting so frustrated with me. He was yelling and visibly irritated with the situation. I was so tempted to get mad and yell back at him that he needed to just calm down, but instead, I decided to ‘kill him with kindness’ and pay for his meal.

“When he pulled up to the window and found out I paid for him, he was caught completely off guard and I saw a change in his demeanor as he yelled ‘thank you’ to me while I was pulling away,” Kayla said. “We have two options of how to handle negative people. We can either stoop to their level, or we can bring them up to ours.”

Watch out, Adultitis. A little spare change can change everything.

P.S. If you try this Small Rebellion, leave a comment here to share what happened or post your adventure online with the hashtag #smallrebellion9

I approached the bandana-wearing barista and bared my soul.

“I have a confession to make,” I started. “I am a coffee virgin. I’ve never had more than a sip my whole life.”

“Uh oh,” she said. “And you came here, of all places?”

The “here” she was speaking of was Anodyne Coffee. I was in Milwaukee working on the first draft for my next book. I’d heard good things about the place, and figured it would be a good spot to work. I love coffee shops, from the exotic smells to the hipster vibe. The only thing is, I don’t drink coffee.

Well, I didn’t.

On the twenty-minute walk from my hotel, the thought crossed my mind that maybe my trip to the coffee shop should include me drinking, you know, actual coffee. Even though I’d only ever had sips, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like it, and it seemed like a pretty good way to waste $4.

Then I remembered Stanley. It was clear that regardless of my opinion of the coffee, ordering it would make for a better story than not. And at that, my decision was made.

“Normally I’d order a hot chocolate or something,” I explained to the barista, “But I figured today is the day. What would you recommend for a first time coffee drinker? What’s a good gateway drink?”

“Well,” she began, “If you like hot chocolate, you might want to try a mocha. It’s kind of like a hot chocolate with coffee in it.”

“Sounds good!”

“Do you want whip cream?” she asked.

“Sure, let’s get crazy!”

After receiving my drink, I found a spot to sit and took a sip. Instant deliciousness. Suddenly, a surefire way to waste $3.54 become a contender for the best $3.54 I’d ever spent. In a instant, a new world opened up before me. A delightful buzz coarsed through my veins as I pounded out a few chapters of the book. I decided to order another one.

I was a little concerned when the barista asked me if I wanted to “make it decaf this time, just in case?”

Just in case what? I thought to myself. I declined, deciding to cast my cares to the wind. I had a book to write after all!

I will say that I felt a lot like Jim Carrey in the movie Dumb & Dumber, when he was in the van, furiously pumping his arms back and forth, and said, “It’s like I’m running at an unbelievable rate, Harry!”

One thing’s for sure. It may have been my first coffee, but it won’t be my last. I am certainly glad I took the plunge.

Now, to the billions of coffee drinkers worldwide, me trying coffee for the first time is as trivial as it gets. (Although being the last person on a bandwagon may be somewhat notable.) But that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I ignored Adultitis and said yes to something that had the potential to make my story better. Even if I had not liked coffee, at least I wouldn’t have the regret of wondering if I would have and wishing I’d tried it.

This is an excellent example of what I call tinkering: Little experiments of little consequence that have the potential to move your story in exciting new directions. For me, trying coffee was a case of tinkering. If I liked it, awesome! If not, no big deal. Either way, my propensity for adventure got a little bigger, and my story got a little better.

Don’t discount the small steps you could take today to make your story more awesome.

You never know where something as small as a sip could lead.

What’s something small you’ve done in the last week that made your story more awesome?

In January, I did a program for a big healthcare company and afterwards I met a guy named Randy who said he had a deck in his backyard that looked like a pirate ship.

Naturally, my curiosity was stoked. Did it come with the house? Was it seaworthy? Was talking like a pirate required for entry?

Happily for all of us, I was able to get the full story — plus pictures! Randy and his wife bought the house in 1999 and have been throwing summer theme parties ever since. (The first one was a Hawaiian style luau, complete with pork roasts wrapped in banana leaves, placed on really hot rocks, covered with a sheet, and then an entire sandbox of sand.) This year’s theme was Jaws, in honor of the 30th anniversary of its release (photo here and here.) Needless to say, it’s been a fun way for the couple to let their inner child come out to play.

The pirate ship deck emerged from one of these parties. Here’s Randy to tell the story:

One year we had a real big one and it was pirate themed. It was a perfect combination. Everybody showed up and (for a change) the weather was perfect. I worked for myself so I had lots of time to set it up. We made pirate ships out of refrigerator boxes, carpet tubes and palettes. We had 300 black water balloons for cannon balls. We also made our deck into the fortress, complete with jail (made out of 2x4s and PVC pipes painted black) and a pillory. Almost everybody dressed up as a pirate, including two people that wore Pittsburgh Pirate uniforms. (We put them in the jail as impostors.)

The party was such a success that everyone wondered how we could match it the next year. Well, I helped my neighbor tear out his deck, and the boards were really floppy, and I decided to use them to turn my entire deck into a ship. It was mostly made of old deck boards, with very little investment of money. I got the telephone pole from a friend who owned a farm and wanted it gone. The rest is semantics.

Pretty epic, huh? Just goes to show you what you can do with a little imagination, a supportive wife, and a neighbor with an old, crappy deck.

Have you or someone you know ever done any childlike home improvements? Share ’em in the comments!

This year, Old Man Winter was especially diabolical. We got tired of waiting for him to leave, so we took matters into our own hands and invited others to join us in a Small Rebellion we called Scram Winter.

The MISSION: Sometime between now and the last official day of winter, ignore the snowflakes and subzero temps and host a tropical party indoors! Do it with your family, some friends, or invite a whole cruise ship full of people; the only requirement is to be creative in your avoidance of the evidence of winter! Jack up the thermostat. Serve tropical drinks. Blow up some inflatable palm trees. Wear Hawaiian shirts (and don’t forget the shorts!)

We invited about a dozen people and jacked up our thermostat to 82º about two hours before they arrived. We made up some frozen strawberry margaritas, complete with tiny umbrellas…

…ordered pineapple and Canadian bacon pizza…

…and nibbled on these colorful and tasty fruit kabobs!

We decorated the space with some bright flowers and other fun decorations.

Although there was still snow on the ground outside, inside was tropically toasty. We even had Hawaiian-themed music playing to tie it all together.

Of course, we invited people to wear appropriate attire…

…and I set up a poor man’s green screen (a lime green table cloth) and took photos that I could (kind of) easily swap out for tropical backgrounds:

Almost like being there!

It was a blast. And the furnace was up so high, it almost made walking back outside a welcome relief! You can check out the way other people’s Scram Winter parties turned out over here.

If you ever feel like winter is gaining the upper hand in your fight against Adultitis, hosting a Scram Winter party of your own is the perfect cure! Click here for more inspiration.

I spend a lot of time in airports. Airports are like kids. They can be a CAUSE of Adultitis or they can be a CURE for Adultitis.

It all depends on your approach.

Sara Alvarado LOVES airports. She gets a kick out of watching all the people with Adultitis freak out over stuff that in the grand scheme of things, don’t really matter. On a recent visit to the Denver Airport, Sara and her son Leo bought some silly putty and did a little redecorating to some advertisements hanging on the wall.

It doesn’t take much to ground Adultitis. Lucky for us, we have people like Sara to show us how easy (and fun) it can be.

A Champion of Childhood is someone instilled with the soaring spirit of childhood who rallies against rules that don’t exist while engaging in ruthless, senseless acts of silliness that undermine the slavery of Adultitis and its unadventurous version of adulthood. We like shining a light upon the most remarkable among us, holding them up as a dazzling example of what we should strive for in this epic battle against Adultitis. See more here.

Times have changed. Back in the day, a college degree pretty much guaranteed you a decent job…somewhere. Not anymore. Paradoxically, the opportunity to chase a dream and create an amazing life have never been better.

Not long ago, the gatekeepers ruled everything. They decided what music should be played, what books should be written, what art should be displayed, what news should be shared, what agendas should be pushed, what business ideas were valid, and what dreams should come true. You pretty much had to wait for someone to pick you, whether it was to to attend their university, write for their publication, exhibit in their gallery, perform at their venue, or work for their company.

Some gatekeepers still exist, but they are not as powerful as they once were. You now have access to tools that would have made Edison’s head explode. Most of them, by the way, are free. Thanks to the internet — free at any library — and things like iTunes U and Khan Academy, you can learn anything you want to learn. With Skype, you can video conference with people anywhere in the world. You can use Kickstarter to raise money to fund that pet project or start a business. Tools abound that will help you start your writing career, publish your own books, record your own songs, sell your own products, and host your own concerts. The list goes on.

The question is no longer, “How can I make my dreams come true?” but rather, “When will I start?”

Even with all these amazing tools at our disposal, many people continue to wait for permission.

We wait for someone to offer us a job, reward us with a contract, or give us an opportunity.

We wait for someone to open the door for us, to give us their blessing, to tell us it’s time.

We wait for someone else to tell us we’re good enough, talented enough, or ready enough.

Meanwhile, Adultitis delights in the growing ocean of unfollowed dreams.

But real life is not a schoolyard version of dodgeball, where you wait anxiously for someone to pick you, hoping it’s sooner rather than later.

What is your big dream? You have the tools at your fingertips. You do not need permission to become a writer or a teacher or an artist or a musician or a business owner or a world changer. You are good enough, talented enough, ready enough, kind enough, and, believe it or not, brave enough to start.

With nearly a whole year ahead of us, it’s tantalizing to think of all the great things that could happen.

What are you waiting for?

[ About the Art: This art (and the post) are directly inspired by one of my heroes, the brilliant Seth Godin. The concept of “picking oneself” is deep soil for graphic interpretation. I like the idea of a box of chocolates, filled with an array of treats, each of them waiting to be picked. But all is dependent on the tastes of the person picking. One person might seek out a coconut cream first, while another might be allergic to coconut, and leave it uneaten or throw it out. The good news is that these days, the coconut cream can pick himself. P.S. My favorite part is the curly cue hair on the candy walking away. (Buy the print!) ]

An organization I spoke to last year traditionally celebrates the holidays with a luncheon and gift exchange. Pretty typical stuff.

The only problem is that Adultitis LOVES typical. Typical is only a hop, skip and a jump away from a rut, and as Ellen Glasgow says, “The only difference between a rut and a grave is their dimensions.”

Fortunately, after hearing one of my programs on Curing Adultitis, Janet Mincks and her team decided to go in a different direction with their holiday party.

It has been 4 months since you spoke to us at our All Staff Professional Development Day. What an impact you have made…We decided to throw away the traditional luncheon routine and make it not only interesting but fun. We exchanged names, however the gift was a small $10.00 gift, but needed to be “Ugly Wrapped”. The presentation of the gifts ranged from a collection of scrap wrapping paper, bubble wrap, and my favorite, a coffee container with small deer antlers on the top as a bow with dryer sheets tied to it. Our lunch included soup and salad, but everyone was only given tiny small delicatessen spoons, and skewers for their salads. The group couldn’t believe that we carried this “Adultitis” (theme) that far.

Nicely done, Janet! (I must say that I too have quite an admiration of that antler-adorned coffee container!) Thanks for showing us that there is no rule that says your holiday party has to look the same every year.

Unless you want it to be a guest of honor, that is.

A Champion of Childhood is someone instilled with the soaring spirit of childhood who rallies against rules that don’t exist while engaging in ruthless, senseless acts of silliness that undermine the slavery of Adultitis and its unadventurous version of adulthood. We like shining a light upon the most remarkable among us, holding them up as a dazzling example of what we should strive for in this epic battle against Adultitis. See more here.

Besty McCleary is a good mom. She stopped by the Earl May so her kids could ride a horse around the parking lot.

Then she figured she’d “kick Adultitis to the curb” and asked to join in. She may have been the only adult who did all day.

Which also makes her a Champion of Childhood.

When you’re with a kid, you pretty much have carte blanche to let your inhibitions go and join them in their carefree adventures. They are pint-sized permission granters. It’s a pity that parents (and grandparents and aunts and uncles) don’t grab that opportunity by the reins every single chance they get.

Betsy, for one, is proud she did. We are too!

A Champion of Childhood is someone instilled with the soaring spirit of childhood who rallies against rules that don’t exist while engaging in ruthless, senseless acts of silliness that undermine the slavery of Adultitis and its unadventurous version of adulthood. We like shining a light upon the most remarkable among us, holding them up as a dazzling example of what we should strive for in this epic battle against Adultitis. See more here.

I have never been a pharmacist. I don’t even play one on TV. But I can’t imagine a pharmacy inherently being a work environment filled with laughs and good times.

But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t use it.

Here is an email we got from Dan Drella, who initiated a small rebellion with his kids.

“I was in Walgreens with sons Brody (6) and Xavier (7). We were walking from photo to the back of the store. Xavier said, “What are we doing now?” My answer was, “Dance party!” Boom, right there in the aisle. All three of us dancing. Brody was all over it. Xavier said, “No, really, what are we doing now?” My reply: “Dance party!” More dancing ensued. “No seriously dad, what are we doing now?” Again…”Dance party!!!” Brody was just laughing. Five times from photo to the pharmacy. When we got to the pharmacy, the pharmacist and assistant were just laughing. They must have been watching the cameras or something. It was a pretty awesome moment of escaping adulthood. Gosh, I need more of those!”

The whole world does, Dan. Which is why we dub you a Champion of Childhood: for having the courage to create one for yourself, your kids, and — even if unintentionally — for the people working in a pharmacy.

Dance on.

A Champion of Childhood is someone instilled with the soaring spirit of childhood who rallies against rules that don’t exist while engaging in ruthless, senseless acts of silliness that undermine the slavery of Adultitis and its unadventurous version of adulthood. We like shining a light upon the most remarkable among us, holding them up as a dazzling example of what we should strive for in this epic battle against Adultitis. See more here.

Halloween is exciting for kids and adults, too;
Dressing in costume: a thing we all love to do.

But why settle for parties or just Trick or Treat?
What if you wore one when you went out to eat?

Perhaps shopping for groceries or driving car pool;
Or serving on jury duty would even be cool.

Or maybe while getting your vision corrected;
Just wear your costume somewhere unexpected.

Adultitis won’t like it and people might stare;
The rebellion is knowing that you just don’t care.

Halloween is the best. I love that it’s free of the obligatory gift-buying and mountains of stress that usually accompany the other major holidays. Halloween is pretty much just about fun. And zombies.

I also love that although Trick or Treating is still a domain of childhood and rambunctious teenagers, it’s not uncommon for grown-ups to get in on the costume-wearing fun. However, most of us over the age of twenty usually require a bit of “costume cover.” You know, that socially acceptable event or occasion where it’s “appropriate” to dress up.

But what if you dressed up in costume for a dinner out with your sweetheart? Or for your weekly trip to the supermarket? Or for jury duty?

This premise is what has inspired our latest “officially-sanctioned” Small Rebellion. It’s called “Halloween Unleashed,” and the challenge is this:

The MISSION: Wear a Halloween costume somewhere that’s unexpected. Bonus points if you get a picture and share it online with the hashtag #smallrebellion7

You can include friends or family — in fact, that makes it more fun and will help increase your bravery! — but wearing a costume to the office-sanctioned Halloween party or to take your kids trick-or-treating (although awesome!) is not what we’re going for.

This is your chance to expand some boundaries and send chills down the spine of Adultitis!

(Click here for inspiration.)

In the war against Adultitis, some days you win battles and other days you lose them. Oftentimes, there are crucial moments in which you actually have the choice to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

Those crucial moments are often born out of embarrassing moments.

In 1973, Dale Irby posed for his first yearbook photo after getting a job as a gym teacher at Prestonwood Elementary school. The next year, Dale inadvertently wore the exact same outfit.

Doh!

What could have turned into an Adultitis-ridden shame spiral transformed into a small rebellion when Dale’s wife dared him to do it again next year. Forty years later, he retired from teaching having worn the same sweater and collared shirt combo for his entire 40-year career.

Nice.

I can imagine Adultitis, cowering in the corner, depressed and defeated, twirling his little villain mustache while wondering what went wrong. And that’s how small rebellions work.

An embarrassing moment can easily lead to shame, anger or depression, if you let it. Instead you could instigate a small rebellion, quit taking yourself too seriously, and make Adultitis run 20 laps, just like Dale Irby did.

Hat tip to Colossal

The other day my four-year-old daughter Lucy was skimming down the sidewalk with her kick scooter.

Normal.

She was gripping the handlebar with one hand and holding an open umbrella with the other. While wearing a bike helmet and snow boots. On a sunny, seventy-three degree day.

Weird.

It’s so weird that I’d bet anything that of the six billion plus people in the world, not one other person was doing and wearing the exact same thing. That’s as weird as it gets.

It was also a great big life lesson.

You see, in Lucy’s head, there was nothing weird about it. She was in the moment, free of pretense, and free of shame. She was living life the way it was meant to be lived.

Oh how I wish I could be that free again.

In fact, we all were, in the beginning. But eventually someone sees us living our bliss, decides it’s weird, and shames us. We get made fun of in the schoolyard, on the bus, or across the diner table. For the first time, it occurs to us that some of the things we do might be looked upon with contempt by another person.

From then on, we start paying attention. We start noticing what’s “in” and what’s not. We take heed of the the things that could get us ridiculed, singled out, and shamed. And we stop doing those things. We smooth out the rough edges and start hiding our weirdness. And one by one, little parts of us die.

It’s quite possibly the greatest tragedy of our lives, as we end up spending most of it conforming to the world around us, all to avoid that feeling of shame ever again.

Once in a while, you’ll see an elderly person who quit buying in. They’re livin’ la vida loca, carefree and without reservation. On the surface, it’s easy to write them off as possibly experiencing early-stage dementia. But if you look closer, you’d see that they have all their wits about them. They’ve just decided it was too expensive to pay attention to what everyone else thought, so they stopped trying to hide their weirdness.

They discovered that people only have the power to shame us if we give it to them.

Well I don’t want to wait till I’m seventy to embrace that truth. I want to live my life like Lucy: free, in the moment, and gloriously weird.

Won’t you join me?

A backyard flush with dandelions can inspire an hour of exciting adventure for a five-year-old. The exact same backyard can also inspire an hour of expletive-laden adjectives for a fifty-year-old.

Believe it or not, most of the things we don’t like about life are changeable. The tricky part is that in order to get the result we desire, the first thing that needs to change is…us.

If you’re disappointed or frustrated by your spouse, your job, your boss, or your kids, you always have the option of waiting for them to improve. Or you can instigate a small rebellion and spark a magical turnaround by changing the way you look at them.

Mary Nuckolls is a Champion of Childhood because she gives away money.

But not the way you think.

She’s not some rich heiress who has so much money she doesn’t know what to do with it. She’s not a professional philanthropist. She works at a preschool.

But sometimes, she finds money on the street, like we all do from time to time. She once heard that when you find a penny, someone in heaven is thinking about you. Mary often finds pennies in threes: one for her mom, dad, and brother. Even if it’s only three cents, such occurrences lift her spirit. So she has taken up the habit of dropping money after she comes out of stores. In her own words:

It’s not much, usually a penny or a nickel. I think that maybe in some small way, I am brightening someone else’s day. Sometimes I leave a couple of quarters at the car wash when I am done. Makes someone’s day. I also buy McDonald’s tickets for ice cream and leave them where a kid will find them. Kinda silly, but then, isn’t that what it’s all about?

Yes, Mary, that is what it’s all about: doing things — sometimes big, but mostly small things — that brighten the world around us.

In a world rocked by war, terror and heartbreaking acts of senseless violence, it’s these small rebellions that give us the humor, hope and healing that we so desperately need.

Thank you for your example Mary, and thank you for being a true Champion of Childhood!

Photo Credit: JD Hancock

A Champion of Childhood is someone instilled with the soaring spirit of childhood who rallies against rules that don’t exist while engaging in ruthless, senseless acts of silliness that undermine the slavery of Adultitis and its unadventurous version of adulthood. We like shining a light upon the most remarkable among us, holding them up as a dazzling example of what we should strive for in this epic battle against Adultitis. See more here.

It seems ridiculous at first. What if we dressed our delivery drivers like the Flash? Or the crowd control team at the stadium as Stormtroopers? Or our window washers as…Spiderman?

That’s exactly what John Hopkins All Children’s Hospital did a few months ago.

The upper windows of the hospital are cleaned once a year, and after seeing another hospital make a splash with their own Spiderman window washers, an executive decided to follow suit with his own team of web slingers. My favorite part of the story is how many people were impacted by this small rebellion. Of course, the kids were thrilled:

A little boy too weak to talk smiled and waved as the famed crime-fighter suddenly appeared in his big picture window, swaying back and forth on a his rope, waving back and placing his hands on the pane as if attached in true Spiderman style.

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Holly Ott, clinical coordinator for the All Children’s Child Life Department, described how much the happening meant to those kids and families undergoing such stressful times.

“Being in the hospital can be a really challenging experience for patients and families,” she said. “What we try to do is normalize the experience and I think that Spider-Man is actually an extraordinary experience for children. It really makes it very therapeutic time for them and their family.”

But it wasn’t just children who were delighted by the experience:

Soon, the spidery crew dangled outside the windows of the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit on the fifth floor, then moved on when their work was done. “I was so excited – I felt like a kid,” said a visitor, Cherie Bjaland, who took in the show. “A few doors down, grandmother Paulette Counts was sleeping on the couch below the window. She hadn’t heard anything about any unusual guests swinging by and awoke to the sight of Spider-Man in the window.

“At first, I didn’t see his rope and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing,” she said, laughing. “I thought I must have been dreaming!”

And then there were the window washers themselves:

About 10:30 a.m., Robert Powers – or could it have been Peter Parker? – walked back inside the All Children’s lobby in full costume, holding his water bucket. A handful of patients and grown-ups waved enthusiastically as he walked past – and if you could have looked under his mask, you’d have seen a big smile. He made sure that he waved to the entranced onlookers before resuming his high-flying feats outside.

“I’ve never done anything like this, and I’ve been washing windows for 29 years,” said Robert, pulling the suit over his street clothes. “But doing this for the kids, it feels great.”

None of this even mentions the bystanders walking on the street, the news crew covering the spectacle, the people who saw the footage on TV, or even you reading this right now. Kinda neat to think about how much Adultitis treatment happened as a result of renting a few costumes online, isn’t it?

Even neater to use this example as inspiration to provide some magic to the children, customers, or employees YOU interact with every day.

You needn’t have been bitten by a radioactive spider in order win a battle against Adultitis.

Sometimes a simple costume will do the trick.

We heartily congratulate all the people who took up the challenge to fight Adultitis by whipping up something ugly in the kitchen. And we offer our sincere condolences to any brave souls who ingested any of the creations. (Although to be fair, most were reported to be very delicious.) Take that, Martha Stewart!

Without further ado, check out the gruesome goodness!

For more Ugly Treat inspiration, check out our Flickr group. And even though the “official” Small Rebellion is over, we welcome your Ugly Treat submissions to the group any time you feel Adultitis getting a little too close for comfort!