Playing Life

I recall quite clearly the fad amongst toddlers to be able to do the essential and important things that run their house by themselves. Especially if God made them female.
Whether its playing 'house' or 'shop', one always showed immense enthusiasm and unquestionable spontaneity. Misty memories of lining up housing essentials and putting price tags on them, exchangable for a bagful of candies, of which if one ate a single - it could result in fights of catastrophic proportions.
But soon it got all dull. It can never be very exciting to repeat transactions knowing that neither the commodity, nor the medium of exchange will ultimately stay in your hands. The adults of the household would impart fair warnings of keeping clear of any hazards or breakages amongst the goods sold. The toddlers would giggle and exchange a bottle of perfume for ten candies.
Playing house had always been a more serious matter. No one messes with the head of the house. But of course, that could've been decided by drawing out chits with neatly scribbled initials or by taking a vote. Then a folding bed would be folded in on the sun-bathed garden as an inverted 'V' and three kids would manage to hide underneath decorating the 'walls' with leaves and flowers.
Food wasn't much of a problem. Construction material was mixed artfully with some water and beaten to our heart's content. And often some chunks of dirt were sent in to act as 'onion' or even 'chicken'. And creatively named as delectable dishes out of a restaurant menu.
The whole play got even more exciting when the household needed some Maggi. Then 'shop' had to be integrated in our world to make ends meet. A whole day of satisfying play led to solid conclusions of being responsible heads of our houses one day.
If only life was so simple. Never replenishing candies exchangable for anything in this world to run a house - just enough to cover our heads from the scorching sun, decorated with inexpensive things - and to satisfy us, physically and emotionally...