Jake and George

A number of years ago, I worked in a video rental shop. A little boy called Jake, who was about three years old at the time, was a regular visitor. While his father browsed around for a video, Jake would come in behind the counter to explore and chat. We got on well.

One day I made Jake his own membership card. He signed it and we ran it through the laminator. I handed it to him, and told him to put it in his pocket so that he wouldn’t lose it. He looked back at me blankly. I mimed and explained how this was to be done, but to no avail. He seemed to have some vague comprehension of what his pockets were, but he had no idea how to use them. His dad took care of all of that for him.

It struck me that I couldn’t think of a more concise definition of blissful innocence than not having to know how to use your pockets.

Such is the joy of being three. Who else in the world could be so carefree?

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