Why Play Is Basically Children’s Customer Service Department

Therapy Dog Lola looking at her bone toy with Catherine Whitlow

Written from my conservatory, watching as Lola drifts around the garden like a tiny, furry philosopher deep in thought…

Adults love to say things like “Use your words.” As if children are deliberately withholding a perfectly clear explanation of their inner world out of sheer mischief.

If they could explain it neatly, they probably would. But most of the time, children aren’t struggling with behaviour, they’re struggling with communication, emotional expression, and translation of feelings — exactly the kind of insight child centred approaches and observing play (and the actions, choices, and activities children gravitate towards) can help adults recognise and respond to.

I often think of play or drama or craft as the children’s customer service department. It’s where they file their complaints, test out returns, rehearse tricky conversations, figure out why something feels wrong, and try to make sense of adults (which, let’s be honest, is a full time job in itself).

Not because they’re being awkward or difficult, but because play is the most efficient language they’ve got. Or more accurately, it’s how they communicate through action, movement, activity, and choice…long before any suitable words are available.

Adults tend to think of play as a break, a reward, or something nice to do once the “real work” is finished. But for children, play is the real work.

Give Lola a ball, a stick, or a scruffy toy she’s decided is her favourite that week, and she’ll show you exactly how she’s feeling; joy, curiosity, mischief, or the occasional dramatic sigh when I don’t throw it fast enough.

Children are no different; It’s how they process worry, excitement, fear, power, loss, relationships, and all the things they don’t yet have words for. Hand a child a puppet, a figure, a tray of bits, a game, some paper to draw on, or even a random object from the bottom of my bag and suddenly you’re watching a full emotional briefing unfold, no introduction, no agenda, just truth in disguise.

Even Lola knows this. She’ll often bring me a toy with the kind of purposeful determination that says, “I have feedback, and I’d like to file it through the medium of a game of tug.”

Play doesn’t stop at childhood, it just changes shape

Older children don’t always sit down with mini figures and narrate a storyline (although some absolutely would thrive if they did). But they still play…just with bigger bodies, sharper humour, and a lot more social strategy.

A teenager wandering down a corridor pretending not to see an adult isn’t being rude. They’re communicating. It’s play in the form of distance, timing, scanning for safety, testing boundaries, and rehearsing independence. It’s “I need space” without the awkwardness of saying it out loud. Teenagers are masters of silent communication. They just swap puppets and sand trays for eye contact, movement, humour, and proximity. Lola rehearses hers by developing selective hearing when she’s found a particularly interesting smell.

Same language. Different props.

And adults? Oh, we’re no better.

We don’t break out the mini figures on a Friday night and act out our week (although honestly, it might help). But we still play, constantly, we just call it other things so it sounds respectable.

Humour instead of honesty.

Sarcasm instead of sadness.

Overworking instead of saying “I’m overwhelmed.”

Cancelling plans instead of admitting “I need rest.”

Tidying the house instead of having the hard conversation.

Scrolling instead of sitting with discomfort.

Avoiding certain colleagues like it’s a stealth mission.

And adult dog Lola? She still plays too, wholeheartedly, unapologetically, and with zero concern for whether it looks “grown up.” If adults played with that level of honesty, half our emotional admin would sort itself out. Of course, some of us still play for real through Lego, board games, gaming, or even dancing in the kitchen when no one’s watching. It just comes with a reusable coffee mug, slightly higher attention span, and a sense of adult responsibility.

It’s still play. It’s still communication.

It’s now just wearing a blazer and calling it “professional development.”

Children aren’t bad at communication; they’re brilliant at it

Children show you what matters through repetition, avoidance, protection, the things they knock over, the things they line up just so. Adults often miss this because we’re listening for words and sentences rather than patterns.

But once you start noticing how someone communicates, not just what they say, everything changes.

You stop asking, “Why won’t they just tell me?”

And start wondering, “What are they already showing me?”

That shift alone makes children feel safer. And safer children don’t need to shout as loudly to be heard.

The tool doesn’t matter. The relationship does.

Whether it’s a dog, a puppet, a drawing, a pile of symbols, a game, or a bag full of random objects that absolutely shouldn’t all fit in one bag…the tool is just the invitation. What actually does the work is feeling noticed, feeling unhurried, and feeling safe enough to be a bit messy.

That’s true for children. And, quietly, it’s true for adults too.

So if you’ve ever thought…

“I don’t know how to explain how I feel.”

“I just need space.”

“I’ll talk about it later.”

“I don’t have the words yet.”

Congratulations, you’re human. You’re still communicating, just not always out loud. We’re all quietly filing emotional tickets, requesting extensions, submitting complaints, and hoping someone on the other end understands what we meant, not just what we managed to say. Some of us are still on hold, listening to the same internal elevator music we’ve had since childhood. Lola has her own customer service desk, of course, mostly involving tennis balls to de-fluff, belly rubs, and the occasional formal complaint about the lack of treats. But she reminds me daily that play and action is communication long before it’s entertainment.

Which is exactly why it matters - for all of us.

Sshhhh, don’t tell anyone…

We’ve been working away behind the scenes at the All Is Well Approach, shaping something new, playful, and deeply child centred, something that celebrates this exact kind of playful communication.

More on that very soon!

More about Play Here
Catherine Whitlow

Founder of the All Is Well Approach, Catherine specialises in trauma informed education, polyvagal informed practice, and animal assisted therapy with her therapy dog, Lola.

https://www.alliswellapproach.co.uk
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Why Calm and Play Matter More Than Ever in Schools