My "inner child" is not very deeply hidden, or well-disguised, frankly. I have a bunch of children's books that I keep, stuffed animals that I name and treasure, boxes of crayons enough to share, I take delight when I see animals out and about, even cool bugs or a snail in our yard, I have a well-maintained sense of wonder ...

I'll never forget, when I was in college I lived with a mom and daughter and took care of the little girl - kind of like a nanny. The little girl and I were going somewhere one day with another girl that we took care of a couple days a week, and some stranger was talking to us on the train. The stranger referred to me as a "grown-up" and the little girls burst into giggles, with "my" girl then explaining to the stranger "She's not a grown-up, she's just a really BIG kid!"

Kinda fits, even still!