I don’t know if I’ve ever jumped up and down for joy.
Burst out laughing, sure. Devolved into happy tears, of course. Jumped into someone’s arms, unfortunately for Matt.
But jumped up and down, nope.
A few days ago though, I had the pleasure to witness it.
For whatever reason there were fireworks in Siem Reap a few nights ago. Walking home, Matt and I got to watch the sky sparkle. In anticipation of a long day at the temples we stopped to buy fruit. The store’s owners have the most beautiful little girl.
She’s a little serious, looking you over and deciding if you are worthy of her fruit or not. She’s always in a dress or ruffles, with a little pixie cut. And she’s probably two.
Well, it must have been the first time she had ever seen fireworks because this night she wasn’t evaluating us or playing on the sidewalk.
She was staring straight ahead into the sky. And every time the sky lit up do you know what she did?
She jumped up and down as fast as she could clapping her hands. The biggest smile you’ve ever seen on her face.
No squealing or laughing. She was too happy.
The second the sparkle was gone, she stopped. She looked at you for only a split second afraid that she would miss the next one, imploring “where’d it go?”
Until the next time the sky was full of glitter and then she was off: jumping for joy.