I Don't Wanna Grow Up

I'm old enough to know better. Old enough to be a "mature adult" in public. But that doesn't mean I am. Sometimes I let my inner child out to play. My inner child is a five year old. For instance, my inner child likes to play the punch bug game whenever riding in a car. Down here, it gets right painful. There's a lot more VW Beetles in the south than there were in the north. That's right, I'm a transplanted Yankee. Much like a good Gardenia Bush I was floundering up in that cold, but at first glance it would seem I'm flourishing down here, thanks for asking hon.

Back to my inner child. My inner child is a lot more mischievous than I was as an actual child. My inner child likes to play practical jokes on "authority figures" that I never would have done when I was younger. I personally, think this is very healthy, well, unless someone gets hurt because of a joke. You know, it's true what they say, it really IS all fun and games until someone pokes out an eye. At any rate, I really do think you should nurture your inner child, otherwise you're forty with thinning hair trying to recapture your youth with a "fire engine red breezer" divorced from your first wife or husband and dating someone half your age who's really after your money because you're going to be kicking the bucket soon if you keep up all your crazy childish ways.

See, that's all preventable if you just let your inner child out once in a while. Little Bobby or Little Jessica needs sunlight just as much as your post winter pasty behind does. By letting your inner child out in small, controlled, doses you can prevent the inevitable midlife crisis, and in turn, prevent a lot of mocking.

My father seems to be in favor of this, for he is often just as juvenile as me. When he learns someone is having a birthday party, he first checks porn shops and Spencers for gag gifts. It's a trait I seem to have inherited, after all, nothing quite suits the birthday boy or girl like the lovely shade of red they turn when they unwrap a brand new bright blue vibrator, batteries included.

Recently I had gone grocery shopping with my father. Now I forget what we had gone in the row for, but we happened to be in the row that included the multitudes of Jello that exist now-a-days. Upon turning and spotting the Jello my father exclaimed, "Look! Jello." At which point we sang together, "J-E-L-L-O!" This was our inner child speaking. We've also been known to burst into random renditions of "I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener!" ('Cause that IS what I'd really like to be.)

I like when my inner child comes out to play, it's always entertaining, and I feel better afterward. It's like exercise without that pesky moving around crap. I get a good healthy laugh and the memory of it can last and last. So I recommend playing with your inner child once in a while, you never know when he or she might have some amazing break through as to the meaning of life. And if your inner child's a slacker, well at least he or she will be entertaining sometimes.