When I was little I couldn’t wait to be big. The world of adults was intoxicating. I listened in on my parents’ conversations and treasured each new story like a gem. My elephant memory began to develop, and even as my head fills up with more and more useless information, I can still recall precious things only a child could see.
I sat quietly, observing the things they found so entertaining. My first big vocabulary word was conniving when I was three. I managed to sit on the couch and watch Dallas without being sent to bed. I learned to love accents after hearing Downtown Julie Brown on MTV while my mother ironed.
After visiting home and seeing friends and family, I ache for that simpler time. Being a kid meant sleepovers, jogathons, selling candy for field trips, and building a homecoming float. Being young meant seeing friends and spending more than an hour and half together. I want to sit on the grassy knoll and talk for hours with Notorious M.A.G., The Pink Fairy, and English Diva, while making daisy chains and waiting for my mother’s white Cadillac to appear. I want to go to the Science Fair–or even the May Dance–and then sulk over a milkshake with Lucky 10-Key. I want to watch 90210 without realizing that 27 does not look like 17. I want The Spice Girls to never be out of style.
Mostly, I want to have that time back so I can savor the things I rushed through or didn’t appreciate enough. If I wish hard enough, maybe it will come true. Tomorrow will not come, and I will be nine years old. I’ll put on my favorite Esprit outfit, and ride the bus to school. I won’t be at the office. I won’t be someone’s secretary. I’ll be the smart girl watching everything and everyone. I’ll commit every remark and exchange to memory. I’ll vow silently never to forget a moment or a feeling, so I can always remember what it was like to be little.
Currently Playing: Maria Taylor, Leap Year
If you were 9 I wouldn’t know you yet. But life would be great.