On growing up

When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up fast. I put my mother's red lipstick, wore her black silletos, draped a faux fur shawl on myself and trotted around clumsily like a"lady". Every birthday was cherished. I was a step closer to womanhood. Every year, on that special day, I'd run to the mirror first thing in the morinig to see how much 'older' I looked. I did my best to imitate Veronica Lodge then because she was 'The Lady'. I even told my neighbour that "as a matter-of-fact" we would get married when we grew up. He almost choked while sucking his thumb.

And now I want to be a child again.
Sometimes I open my eyes in the morning and go, "Eeeks, I think I grew up too fast." Sometimes I walk past children on swings and wish I did that more often. Sometimes I step into a puddle and wish I could roll about in it without people thinking I need medical treatment. Sometimes I look at my face in the mirror and don't recoginise myself. I see little kids and feel weird that I'm not their height anymore. I feel dizzy when they call me 'aunty'. Surely, there IS more time left? Surely, I'm not that old yet? Surely, I can still be called one of the tiny tots?

Leave it to the aunts to dash such hopes.
"Such a pretty woman," they coo, "Can you knit?"
"No," I say, puzzled at the sudden change of topic.
"What? Not even one teeny-weeny bit? You MUST learn! Your babies will be born anytime now!"

However, hope still lies under all this chaos of growing up. No matter how much I may have changed physically, mentally I'm still a 2 year old. Thank god for that.