This morning I woke up far too early, bitchy and bloated to that unavoidable monthly moment all women face (come on menopause, hurry up and get here!!). In the process of getting the children ready for school, and trying not to be impatient with the constant chatter, we hit upon the topic of age.
For some reason all children want to be older than what they are. My seven year old wishes he were ten, then life would be great because he could walk down the road to his friend's house unaccompanied. Every child I've ever spoken to wishes this blessing upon themselves, to be more grown up.
All except my five year old who wishes he was a baby again because, he says, " I was so cute" . So I asked, "Do you not think you are cute now?" His reply, " I am only kind of cute now, but I am growing up. Babies are very cute." This lead him to discover a new philosophy: For every birthday we skip, we grow a year younger. He is looking forward to growing younger as the years go by, and reasons that when he is nine, he will be at the perfect baby age to achieve his ideal cuteness.
In the meantime, he will have to suffer through days of "Boring, nothing to do" school and cleaning his room. Which he finds annoying because he will just have to dump everything out again to find that one perfect toy to play with.
So, I sit here now and think, this one is going to be trouble. He, I believe, will grow into one of those who goes against the grain of society's rules. Perhaps there is hope for our up and coming generation to make changes for the better in our world.