Infantile Joy

I’m observing this unadulterated joy of a young child doing exactly what you shout for him not to do:

Don’t touch that

Don’t eat that

Don’t jump on the bed when wet from shower

Don’t mess up the dress/shirt/hair…

Don’t scream before bedtime.

.

.

.

The more you say, the more serious you sound, the more urgency in your voice, the more joy and giggling and the more persistence.

I wonder if the pervs watching and mucking with my emails and calendars and every single thing I do are like this. The more I say that clandestine spying and interfering with my personal affairs are unfair trespasses on my human rights, the more joy and vigor their actions brings them.

Seriously, stop it.

No means no for men too.

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