When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults and they enter society, one of the more polite names of hell. That is why we dread children, even if we love them, they show us the state of our decay. - Brian W. Aldiss
I miss my childhood.
I miss playing kickball. I miss gathering all the neighborhood kids for a game of baseball in the Spring, basketball in the Summer, football in the Fall and Winter. I miss Sideline Pop. I miss getting excited hearing the ice cream truck jingle. (Wait, who am I kidding, no I don't. I STILL get excited when that music plays.) I miss the candy lady selling penny Tootsie Rolls, nickel Fireballs, quarter water. I miss the frozen Kool-Aid in the Styrofoam cups. I miss the candy necklace. I miss playing Hide and Go Seek. I miss playing Hide and Go Get It two years later. (Wait, I still play that game, it's called dating now.) I miss my partners Larry, Chris, James, Craig, Mike. I miss nap time. I miss the graham crackers and chocolate milk for a snack. I miss the girls with the two ponytails on either side of their head, playing jump rope with their jellies on. I miss playing Criss Cross Applesauce in school. I miss coloring. I miss playing Duck Hunt and cheating when no one was looking by having the gun RIGHT on the TV. I miss watching Double Dare. I miss wanting to BE on Double Dare. I miss staying up late and watching Arsenio Hall. I miss going to McDonalds when it actually meant something. I miss actually enjoying King's Dominion and Busch Gardens. I miss field trips. I miss the lunch Mom used to make; the bologna and cheese with the
I miss being tucked in at night. I miss my mom kissing my forehead so I can sleep good. I miss when Kool-Aid was the best thing ever.
I miss eating Peach Ice Cream while sitting on my front porch with my friends, laughing and talking the day away.
I miss having no responsibilities except for learning as much as possible and having fun doing it.
I miss being a kid.
Now playing: Ghostface Killah - Child's Play