To Whom It May Concern,
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult in order to accept
the responsibilities of a 6 year old.
The tax base is lower. I want to be six again. I want to go to McDonald’s and
think it’s the best place in the world to eat. I want to sail sticks across a
fresh mud puddle and make waves with
rocks. I want to think M&Ms are better than money ’cause you can eat them. I
want to play kickball during recess and stay up on Christmas Eve waiting to hear
Santa and Rudolph on the roof. I long for the days when life was simple. When
all you knew were your colors, the addition tables and simple nursery rhymes,
but it didn’t bother you because you didn’t know what you didn’t know, and you
I want to go to school and have snack time, recess, gym, and field trips. I want
to be happy because I don’t know what should make me upset. I want to think the
world is fair, and everyone in it is honest and good. I want to believe that
anything is possible.
Sometime, while I was maturing, I learned too much. I learned of nuclear
weapons, prejudice, starving and abused kids, lies, unhappy marriages, illness,
pain and mortality. I want to be six again.
I want to think that everyone, including myself, will live forever because I
don’t know the concept of death. I want to be oblivious to the complexity of
life, and be overly excited by the little things again. I want television to be
something I watch for fun, not something I use for escape from the things I
should be doing. I want to live knowing the little things I find exciting will
always make me as happy as when I first learned them… I want to be six again.
I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the
things that directly concerned me. I want to be naive enough to think that if
I’m happy, so is everyone else. I want to
walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet, and the
possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I’m looking for. I want to
spend my afternoons climbing trees and
riding my bike, letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist, and how to
find the money to fix the old car. I want to wonder what I’ll do when I grow up,
and what I’ll be, who I’ll be, and not worry about what I’ll do if this doesn’t
work out. I want that time back. I want to use it now as an escape, so that when
my computer crashes, or I have a mountain of paperwork, or two depressed
friends, or a fight with my significant other, or bittersweet memories of times
gone by, or second thoughts about so many things, I can travel back, and build a
thinking about anything except whether the snow sticks together, and what I can
possibly use for the snowman’s mouth.
I want to be six again, especially now, as Christmas approaches. I want to
expect nothing except presents and goodies. No terrorism, no fears, no worries.
Expecting only that Santa coming ’cause I’ve been good (and somehow,
mysteriously, even if I’ve not been all that good). No unemployment or job
worries, no taking care of ailing, elderly parents, no homeless in the streets.
No aching joints or blurred vision, just the joy of Christmas and meeting with
all my friends to share what we got…
I want to be six again.
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