It’s easy to forget what the world looks like when you're only two feet tall.
We spend our days towering over our kids—grabbing snacks off shelves, steering strollers, answering emails, mowing lawns. But here's a simple experiment that might flip your whole perspective. Your 3 or 4 year old says, “Daddy, come play!” Then she drops to the floor like it was the most natural place in the world. So why not do the same thing?

A New View

When you’re lying belly-down on the rug, the world is different. The dog looks enormous. Dust bunnies become wild creatures. The coffee table becomes a looming skyscraper. And the tiniest things—buttons, blocks, puzzle pieces—become the center of attention.
While you're down there, watch your son or daughter line up toys or hum a song. Maybe she hands you a crayon and says, “You draw daddy.” So you draw....and when she corrects you with the brutal honesty of a two-year-old. “No, Daddy, you forgot the ears!” Aknowledge that, yup, she's right.
So, just laugh and realized—this is the world she lives in. A world full of imagination, trial and error, tiny frustrations, and huge wins like putting two Lego bricks together. It’s beautiful, chaotic, and makes perfect sense when you're on the floor.

Why It Matters

Getting down on the floor isn't just playtime—it's connection. It's showing your child that their world matters to you. That you're willing to slow down, get a little uncomfortable, and see things from their level. It tells them, “I’m here. With you. Right now.”
It doesn’t require a screen, a plan, or even words. Just presence.
And it goes both ways. When we take time to see life from our kids’ perspective, we’re reminded of things we’ve forgotten:
  • That wonder can live in a cardboard box.
  • That falling down is just part of the process.
  • That love is spelled L-E-G-O (or however your toddler spells it).

The Floor Won’t Be Forever

Here’s the part that hits hardest: they won’t always ask us to get down on the floor.
One day, we’ll realize the Legos are packed away, the crayons are dried out, and the little hand that used to tug ours is now opening the fridge by itself. So while they still ask—while they still want us down there with them—we go.
We crawl, we stack blocks, we roar like dinosaurs, we draw lopsided elephants. Not because we have to. Because we get to.

Final Thought

Dads, if you haven’t laid on the floor or crawled around with your toddler lately, give it a shot. Turn off your phone, get down on their level, and just be there. You might find that the world looks a lot better from two feet off the ground. And who knows—you might even remember where you left your inner child.