When I grow up or invent time travel which ever comes first I’d like to be a kid. A blissifully happy, pink wearing, cupcake eating, fairy wing donning kind of girl.
It’s a classic case of we always want what we don’t have, until we have it and then… well you know how it goes. We spend so much time as a kid wanting to be grown up, wearing mum’s high heels and make-up, playing mum to dolls, that when we hit adulthood, sometimes it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
Suddenly school Monday – Friday 9am – 3.15pm, with a gazillion weeks holiday a year doesn’t seem so bad, or a couple of days at preschool were funfilled playdates. While pocket money wasn’t much it didn’t have to go towards a mortgage or a phone bill. Stuffing yourself full of cake and lollies was not met with ‘watch your weight’ and being a little tubby was endearing ‘baby fat’.
Putting stuff on your face consisted of pink glitter and having butterfly wings painted on your cheeks, not the pressure of making sure your foundation matched your skin tone, and the pressure of applying eyeliner with the upmost precision.
Dirty clothes meant you’d had a fantastic time playing in the park, and not that you were a grub. Chucking a sickie had less consequences, and daytime naps were encouraged, not discouraged. Oh the day time nap.
While chucking a tantrum is still met with disapproving looks, there’s nothing like the feeling of relief after having a bloody good cry. Kid, or otherwise.
An outing to the shopping centre in a princess tiara and fairy wings was met with ‘oh isn’t she just adorable’, not um, excuse me it’s not fancy dress day at Coles today, nor would it mean you’d had a massive night out at a fancy dress party and were on your way home at 10am the morning after the night before.
And so I have to leave you now and return to my adult life. But maybe I’ll sneak in a cupcake and a daytime nanna nap. However, I think I’ll save the fairy wings for, you know, things like doing the dishes. At the end of the day, it’s always good to be a big kid at heart.