A two-year-old laughing his head off imitating a frog. Maybe 'fun' was simpler than I thought.

My third son was being a frog in the living room.

"Boing!"

He crouches down, puts both hands on the floor, and jumps with all his might.
Of course, he can't jump that high.

Even so, he is completely satisfied,

"Boing!"
"Boing!"
he keeps jumping over and over again.

He looked so happy, I couldn't even tell what was so fun about it.

He raises his voice,
laughs with his face all scrunched up,
and then crouches down and jumps again.

That's all it is.

There are no toys.
We haven't come to any special place.
He's just imitating a frog and jumping around the living room.

And yet, he can laugh this much.

It's the same for my eldest and second sons.

When they pass by,
"Gotcha!"
I say, hugging them and tickling them a little.

Just that is enough for them to
"Hahaha!"
laugh out loud.

"Stop it!"
"Let me go!"
they say, rolling on the floor to escape.

So I let them go.

Then, a few seconds later,
they come back to me.

"Catch me again!"

Wait, didn't you just say "let me go"?

I say that, and then I catch them again.
They laugh out loud again.
And then they run away again, and come back again.

Children really do laugh a lot.

They laugh just from being a frog.
They laugh just from being caught.
Just from being tickled,
they laugh until they can't breathe.

No matter how many times they do the same thing,
they laugh as if it's the first time.

Watching them, I suddenly wondered.

When was the last time I
laughed with all my might like this?

Of course, I laugh every day too.

I burst out laughing at the funny things my children say,
I laugh while talking with my husband,
and I laugh watching TV.

But.

Until my stomach hurts.
Until I can't breathe.
With my face all scrunched up,

laughing just because it's "fun"—
when was that?

When you become an adult, there are all sorts of conditions for having fun.

Since it's a day off, let's go somewhere.
If we're going out, let's go somewhere the kids will enjoy.
While we're at it, I want to eat something delicious.
I want to take pictures too.
I want to make memories.

Of course, that's fun too.

I like going out with my family as well.

But,

watching my third son being a frog in the living room,

I think that maybe "fun" was actually something simpler.

If you jump, it's fun.
If you get caught, it's funny.
If Mom chases you, it's happy.
If you laugh with your brothers, it's even more fun.

Maybe the kids
aren't thinking, "Let's make today a fun day."
They're just laughing because it was funny in that moment.

They're doing it again because they were happy in that moment.
I think that's all it is.

And I'm sure that someday,

I will look back on this time with nostalgia.
When my third son gets a little older,

he might stop imitating a frog in the living room
and laughing with his face all scrunched up.
My eldest and second sons, too,

will eventually be able to truly run away before I can catch them.
Even if I reach out and say,

"I'm going to tickle you!"
the day might come when they make a truly disgusted face and say,
"Stop it."
Thinking about that,

I realized that this loud laughter echoing in the living room today
isn't something that will be here forever.
That said,

I probably can't do things like
cherishing every day, or
savoring every single moment with my children.
Tomorrow morning, too,

I'll probably say, "Hurry up and get changed!"
I'll get angry if they don't clean up no matter how many times I tell them,
and when they start fighting,
I'll probably say, "That's enough already!"
Even so.
The fact that a frog was jumping around the living room.
The fact that the child who ran away saying "Let me go!"

came back saying "One more time!"

The fact that the laughter of the three of them was echoing so loudly it was noisy.

I might actually want to remember
those kinds of ordinary days forever.

Today, too,

they came back saying,
"One more time!"
So I,

one more time,
caught them.