Black Coffee and Smiley-Pancakes with Extra Strawberry Drizzles

After having a marathon of one of my favorite animated series, I came to a realization. I miss being a kid. Yes, I know I haven't been much of a grown up lately, but what I meant was that I miss being a little child. I miss worrying over the little things like missing my favorite cartoon show and laughing over the silliest things like a corny text joke. I miss waking up on a Saturday morning, excited to have the whole day for playing with my toys and my friends. I miss not feeling guilty over reading comics and kiddie novels instead of school books. And most of all, I miss the freebies that kids get (especially during the holidays!). Haha!

I am now at the age where people expect me to be a mature individual. Yes, at 21, most people would expect you to give up your childish ways. They would expect you to get over your fascination for toys, addiction for video games and enthralment in animated shows. I completely understand why people would expect something like that on 21-year-olds. We are at the age that's ripe for taking responsibility and making things happen. And it's hard, as they say, to get things done when you're hung over your childhood fantasies and crayon-colored world.

As we grow up, we give up the happy-go-lucky child within us. We gag that kid. and lock it up in the deepest, darkest part of our being. We try to ignore it's distant cries and deprive ourselves of the little happiness it bring us when we see that little kid smile. We give in to the notion that growing up means moving on and leaving the child behind, thinking that you can always get back to that kid when you feel you've done what you thought you were supposed to do. But you will never be done with your duties anytime soon. And in time, you'll forget all about that little kid. The moment you'd realize what you've forgotten, it probably would have been too late. And the child you kept hidden for so long would have long been dead.

Just recently a friend of mine told me that she felt like she was starting to get her old princess-y self back. I was genuinely so happy for her because it meant that she hasn't given up the child in her completely. She still had the little girl that believed in happy-ever-afters, the one she was forced to give up for quite some time, in her and waiting for her to open the door that she was locked in. And it was only a matter of time before she could finally set her free once more. However, just after she told me all about it, another friend of mine sort of made a confession that was the complete opposite. He basically told me that he suppressed his love for something because he had become an adult. He was, for a lack of a better word, embarrassed to like something as childish as that thing. And that made me sad.

I'm no expert in Life, but I feel like being young and growing up aren't on different ends of a continuum. I don't think that you have to choose one over the other. I don't think you have to give up a part of you just to be someone that you think you're supposed to be. Keep in mind the wonderful words of G.K. Chesterton: Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life. Why should you change who you are if you can get the job done just as well when you're being you? Of course, I'm not saying that you should always act like a child because that's just plain stupid. What I'm saying is, give your self a chance to be a kid every now and then, see things through the eyes of a child, and don't be afraid to love the same things that you used to when you were a little tot. It's not immature, nor is it retarded. It's called being yourself.

So to hell with those insignificant people who mockingly chuckle when you get excited over a cartoon that you used to love. Don't even mind the curious glances of strange passers-by as you check out the toys that make you feel nostalgic. And screw those who silently judge you for still believing in fairy tales and happy ever after. They're probably just envious that you could afford to be a child and an adult at the same time.