Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, we lose that random sense of play. An unoccupied piano sits, keys beckoning to be touched, tinkled. Children will usually walk past, stop, check to see if their parents are watching, and tentatively plunk a few keys. Some will pound the keys unabashedly, laughing at the tune they created before their parents whisk them away. Occasionally a pre-teen will shyly sit down and play the inevitable "Heart and Soul" quickly like it was a covert operation, then slip away with the echoes of the last notes.
Adults, for the most part will hurry by, oblivious to the fact the piano exists. Some may even long for the day when they had time to sit down and lose themselves in playing a piece, one they perhaps practiced for a recital as a youth. They may even pause at the keys, but then chide themselves because they have no time, and besides, just because the piano is sitting there, it doesn't mean you have to play it, or play with it. There are more important things to do.
And some adults understand that sometimes the most important thing to to at the time is play.
**Thanks to my sister for posting this on Facebook. You can find her and her husband's blog here