"Upsown, Daddy." (this is my two and a half-year-old asking me to hold her upside down)
"But you don't have any pants on."
"Upsown!!!"
Why can't I see that her 50% nudity could not be more irrelevant?  It is so obvious to her.  Naturally, I hoist her up and lower her down my back, until I'm grasping her ankles and she's dangling happily.  I suppose if I lived with a giant, I would probably take advantage of this simple way to get the blood rushing to my head at a moment's notice.

She does what feels good.  The wisdom is so innate, I don't understand why we doubt it.  We should rename ourselves the "grown-olds," or the "grown-talls,"or perhaps just the "groaners."  But I'm not sure we've earned the title "grown-up" just because we've been around for so damn long.

Some of us grow up, but some grow lazy, some grow cranky, some grow numb.   I've found that looking to my younger ones is almost always likely to open my eyes, my mind and my heart to all that's around me.

Still,  - most of the time - I'm one exhausted fella.

Maybe I ought to spend more time upsown...