Why Childhood Was More Fun

As I find myself at the dawn of adulthood, on the cusp of maturity, I can't help but pine for the simple, joy-filled days of childhood. Days when the most difficult decision to make was whether to watch "The Smurfs" or "Scooby Doo." I know it's an easy one, but at the time bright colors and goofy voices were the very definition of quality programming.

Unfortunately, it seems that many of the cherished aspects of childhood just don't seem to fit in the grown-up world. If you turned to a coworker, smacked him in the back of the head for no reason and upon being asked why, only replied, "I dunno," you'd be looking at an assault charge. Do the same in kindergarten and all you have to do is have Mom write a note saying that you have attention deficit disorder and you're free to go slaphappy whenever you like. "Oh, don't mind him. He has A.D.D." I hate change.

Another aspect of childhood that just doesn't seem to work anymore is the ease of waking up early in the morning. I will forever be perplexed at a child's ability to spring to life during pre-dawn hours with the energy and tenacity of a wildebeest. For some reason, full-grown adults are not meant to be awake before 10 am. Is there really anyone out there who likes their alarm clock? No. I'll bet that the first time a rooster crowed at sunrise was also the first day anyone had fried chicken for dinner.

Regardless of these isolated items, I think it's about time we brought childhood back. I think that applying childhood rules to the workplace would make things a lot more efficient. Imagine an argument during a typical meeting:

"... so I think if we reinvest our dividends in mutual funds, we'll be looking good."

"Henry, I gotta tell you. I think you're just plain wrong on this one."

"I don't think so, Marge."

The boss steps in and says, "Well there's only one way to settle this then: the 50-yard dash!"

The crowd gasps.

That's right, the 50-yard dash: the final and definitive measure to separate the kids from the... uh... slower kids. In my neighborhood, the fastest kid was always the most revered and therefore he was always right. It didn't matter that he couldn't tie his own shoes or that he only bathed on a biweekly basis. He was fastest, so he was king.

Dating as I see it is far too complex could therefore use a dose of childhood as well. I say we go back to schoolyard rules. If I punch you in the arm and you smile, we're boyfriend and girlfriend until you accept the punch of another. There's no room for miscommunication or mixed signals. Of course, the next phase of relationships would be the sitting in a tree, followed by the K-I-S-S-I-N-G and so forth.

By the way, whatever happened to recess? Somehow, that brief opportunity to stop and engage in the social or physical activity of one's choosing for 20 minutes after lunch faded sometime around the onset of puberty. Well, I think it's about time we brought it back. Recess, not puberty. Imagine how much happier everyone would be if their company instituted mandatory kickball games every day at 2:30. The losers would have to go back to work, while the winners would get first dibs on the best spots on the reading rug. It's a win-win situation. Well, except for the losers. So I guess it's more of a win-lose situation. But who cares? Kickball!

In conclusion, I'd like to offer everyone the advice of keeping the childhood spirit within alive. Chase each other through the halls without rhyme or reason, but for the sheer childish joy of it. Watch cartoons until your brain rots. Start fights with your sister and say that she started it. Be amazed every time you see a teacher in a public place, confused as you realize that they do exist outside of the classroom and that they are "just like real people." Just do whatever it takes to hold on to the beauty of that innocence. Tag. You're it.

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