If I had my childhood to do over again, I’d spend considerably more time running around in circles screaming.
You know, just because I could probably have gotten away with it.
Now though, I’m guessing people would be ever so slightly less forgiving and much more likely to think I’m nuts.
This, I think, is the absolute worst part of adulthood: you can’t act a little crazy without people getting all bent out of shape about it.
It’s such a shame all of my prime tantrum-throwing years occurred before I had anything worthwhile to throw a tantrum about.
Here are the stupid things Kid Me complained about and what Adult Me would tell Kid Me if I could Marty McFly it back to the ’90s.
- Those other kids hogged the merry-go-round at recess and I didn’t get a turn. Big whoop, Kid Ashley, go play on the swings. They’re cooler anyway. Duh.
- School lunch was gross today. Okay, you ungrateful, little twerp, we won’t even get into how lucky you are that your parents can afford to purchase you a semi-nutritious, hot lunch. Someday you’ll spend your lunch hours in a dreary, florescent-lit office breakroom eating individual portions of casseroles out of Tupperware while you are subjected to the television viewing choices of anyone who got into the breakroom before you. FYI: the first people always, always choose to watch Fox News. Every damn time. Talk about gross.
- School days are so long. Hey kid, you only have seven hours to get through. Cry me a river. That’s nothing. One day you’re going to be subjected to eight whole hours of boring stuff and let me just warn you now–your attention span is not going to get any longer with age. In fact, it’s arguably going to get a whole lot worst. So, buck up, kiddo, and be sure to enjoy that extra hour of free time you have now. You should probably spend more time decorating things with glitter. Grownups never appreciate the unique, artistic virtues of glitter.
- Gah, some kids are so mean. Here’s some bad news Little Me: those kids who are jerks on the playground are going to be jerks in the workplace. They’re going to be jerks while you’re standing in line at the grocery store. They’re going to be jerks at the mall, at zoos, at national monuments, and at the dentist. You get it. Those jerks are going to be everywhere. Because apparently teaching your kid How Not to Be a Jerk is optional and jerks repopulate like jackrabbits.
- I can’t do whatever I want whenever I want. When I was a kid, I operated under a ridiculous, small-brained delusion that when you become an adult, it is all about freedom, all the time, baby. There’d be no rules, no curfews, no dietary restrictions. (Come on, Mom, only reduced fat Oreos? I’ve tasted the real thing and I’m never going back.) Anyway, I was convinced that adulthood was going to be a breeze.
I was wrong. I was so wrong. It’s so much worse because you’re pretty much always doing what you don’t want to be doing. Well, at least 40 hours a week. Because, money, it seems, is kind of a big deal and they make you work for it.
But the good thing about money is, it can also buy you ice cream. And Oreos. And I’m not talking about the reduced fat kind, either. I’m talking about the hard stuff. The Double-Stuf.
Maybe adulthood’s not so bad after all.