To be young again...

         Perhaps I am optimistically assuming, nevertheless  I  must declare, that for most Americans, their childhood was a moderately to highly enjoyable experience and as they grow, or have grown, into adulthood, they look back upon with much amusement and nostalgia. The desire to reverse their lives for just one moment, reliving past memories of tire swing daze, soaking up rays, and tantrum displays. I get it. How perplexing it is to have found comfort in a device that spun you into a stage of lunchroom vomit or How soothing it is to find yourself back on that family vacation to Myrtle Beach, yes that must be nice.  I still believe that allowing your child to wallow in grief in the middle of a supermarket should solicit some type of ticketed citation, however this idea of "returning to your innocence," going back to a time where your were so unconscious of a world outside your own, is an idea that is down right depressing.
      Children are naive, curious, and persistent. They jump their bikes over creeks, hit wasps nests with baseball bats, and poke sticks into snake holes--and all because it was wednesday and the pool was closed due to rain. Which comes to my main statement. Children are basically fearless and I envy that. I decline on clinging on to my childhood because I understand that I will forever live in some sort of fear. I mean isn't that how adults live, constantly turning the gears with a cloud of fear fanning overhead? I saw it in my parents, I've seen it in my friends parents, and I see it in complete strangers. Who's going to pay the car payment? When's the next prostate exam? Have you considered not smoking? Looks like we are going to have to take that gull bladder. Have you filed your 1040 taxes? Oh, so you are taking out a second mortgage? At your age, you know you are at a high risk for Osteoporosis? These questions smash into your windshield as you drive down that road of life ( hands at 10 and 2). And what do you do? You cower, and do every precautionary measure possible to deter bad results. Where's the spontaneity, the discovery, the sense of adventure? Unless you are the exceptional bourgeoisie of adults, such as professional skydivers and Bear Grills, you sort of have to throw those virtues out the window. How wretched is such a world!
        I leave you with this: You are seven years old and you have a un-scratchable itch for sugar that could only be cured by the chocolately goodness of America's favorite cookie--the Oreo. The thought alone diverts your mind from every other task (clean room, spelling homework, feed dog, etc) and you begin to salivate at the mouth. You know mommy hides the Oreo's from daddy, and you know that she hides your slingshot on the fridge. Put two and two together and the Oreo's must be on the fridge. You can't possibly reach so you grab the foot stool. The foot stool does not allow enough height for you to even touch the dust on top. So, you grab three cookbooks, and stack them underneath the foot stool giving you just enough of a glimpse so that four of your fingers caress a ceramic cylinder. You are now determined like never before. You look around in a hurried state and find only a basketball and for some reason that seemed like an applicable resource to breach the castle walls. You delicately place it on top of everything and you step up to wobbly balance on top, tinkering with handle of the ceramic jar. Before you can even feel a crumb, you come tumbling down and break you collar bone, as well as the jar. You cry and cry, but the wails are muffled behind a stuffed mouth of chocolate and cream. Now, a broken collar bone, that is a learning experience. But, that cookie in hand, that is a triumph and that is all that mattered to you. Children are fearless. - m. cali ...