Scared Of

growing up.

I remember all those years ago, back in Primary school, when I honestly and truly thought I’d never grow up.

You were either born an adult or a child, you could get older, but only to a certain age.

I never truly thought I’d leave the playing fields where we played Kiss Chase, Red Rover and Rounder's or the Weeping Willow over the stream where we’d take our milk bottles and cookie for story time on sunny days. Peter Kenellan would always be the grampa guy who helped us build amazing projects {our replica of the Channel Tunnel was better than the original} and Carol was the lollipop lady who was without fail at the crossing to see us safely across the road.

I learnt, eventually, that there would be a final time Carol saw me safely across the road as I left Primary school behind and moved up to Middle school and beyond.

Perhaps it was witnessing the struggles and hardships that my parents faced or maybe I simply enjoyed the freedom of being a child, but there I was…hair in lopsided bunches, summer dress covered in mud and torn by a tree branch, knees bloody from tripping over yet again and shoes scuffed from the bark of a tree having the time of my life, not a care in the world.

not growing up

As I sit here tonight, worrying about proper grown up problems, I realise that despite the years which have passed, I’m still very much scared of growing up.

1 comment :

  1. I don't think I'll ever grow up. Even with a mortgage, two kids and a few years of marriage behind me! x

    ReplyDelete

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