I don’t want to leave childhood!

Me: “Dee, why did you do that? Are you a child?”

Dee: “Yes, mum, I am a child.”

Me: “I mean, are you a baby?”

Dee: “Mum, I am a big baby. I am not yet 12.”

Me: I grinned silently.

After a few minutes

Dee: “Mum, I don’t want to leave childhood!”

Me: “Really? Why?”

Dee: “I won’t have fun anymore. I’ll be doing the dishes, won’t play games, and will have to do boring work…”

Me: My grin widened even more as I focused on the vegetables I was chopping.

Isn’t Dee like many of us? Adulthood means taking responsibility that is often not fun or pleasant. On some random days, I feel like taking a 24-hour sleep-cation, cuddling under the duvet and ignoring whatever consequences.

I can’t help but laugh when I read some news—or rather, wonder and shiver even.

Months ago, I read about a 69-year-old man who argued that he wants 20 years cut off from his age. Why? The curious court asked. He defended that his doctor told him that the agility of his body, especially his heart, is like that of a 49-year-old. He feels trapped in his age because younger women are turning him down on Tinder, but if he were 49, younger women would say yes to him. If he were 49, he could buy a new house and start living afresh. And of course, he can get back into the labor force, work some more, and earn more money.

Another athlete who had lost several competitions had a eureka moment. With a simple declaration, he moved on to compete in a female sport and began carting away gold medals—leaving the women who had prepared for tournaments all their lives high and dry, going home as runners-up.

Just two weeks ago, I read about a person—not sure if a he, she, or it—who had always wanted to achieve its lifelong dream: to be an animal. It finally got it figured out and is now a dog.

The dogs I know don’t pay bills or bother with the exigencies of filing for taxes annually. The only thing I’m puzzled about is when it is in public, how will it pee or poo? I’d really love to see it.

I recently met Willy just days after he declared his new identity. Now, he can’t go back home because his life is under threat, he must seek asylum—an easy entry into a land flowing with milk and honey.

I guess God figured that if He doesn’t cap our physical growth at certain age and decide the form we come, things would be chaotic – children will press the stop button and refuse to grow into adulthood.

Adults will press the rewind button and become children again—grandpas and grandmas will swap places with their grandchildren. Animals will crave becoming human, and humans bored, or rather burdened by the responsibilities of adulthood, will decide to become insects.