On the Subject of Silliness, South Bay Sprouts Owner Says, “Game On”

A few weeks ago, I was observing a class at our studio. It was a group of mostly 6-year-olds. If you know 6-year-olds, you know they live in a magical in-between. Old enough to have opinions and friendships, young enough to still be endlessly silly. The kind of silly that erupts into giggles for no reason at all. The kind that bubbles over when they’re with their friends.

And if you know most adults, especially parents watching from the sidelines, you know that silliness can sometimes feel … uncomfortable. That was exactly the moment we were in.

One child was being extra silly. Not unsafe. Not unkind. Just joyfully, distractingly age 6. A parent, with a half-smile and a smidge of embarrassment, turned to me and asked, “When do they stop being so silly?”

It wasn’t a mean question. It wasn’t critical. It was the kind of question that slips out when you’re trying to understand your child and maybe, slightly, hoping the phase passes soon.

I had to pause. After all my years working with kids, I realized there wasn’t a neat answer. There’s no birthday where silliness disappears overnight. No loud transition. No clear line.

“It’s not really an exact age,” I said. “It’s more gradual. Somewhere between 8 and 12 there’s often a shift. Social awareness grows. Kids start noticing what others are doing. There’s more pressure to fit in.”

As the words left my mouth, I felt my heart sink a little. Another parent nearby nodded in agreement and added, “Yeah, once it fades, it doesn’t really come back the same way.”

And that’s the part that stayed with me. Because childhood—real, unfiltered childhood—is fleeting. The silliness. The unselfconscious laughter. The freedom to be loud, weird, imaginative and wildly oneself. These moments don’t last forever, even though in the middle of them they can feel endless.

This season, the one that sometimes makes parents shift in their seats, is actually sacred. It’s the sound of children practicing joy. It’s the language of becoming.

So let them be silly. Let them play. Let them find joy in childhood. Because we only get one chance to honor this version of them. And one day, sooner than you think, you’ll miss it all.

Let them be little … while they still are.