Children’s Day 2019: 6 Things I Definitely Do Not Miss About Being A Child

You know how everyone (myself included) likes to whine about adulthood being a scam and how they’d give anything to be a child again? So I woke up this morning reflecting on my childhood because well, it’s Children’s Day and thinking about my childhood is something I always do on this day. May 27th is a jarring reminder that I’m never ever going to be a child again, and I would usually think about this with a little bit of nostalgia and even sadness, but this morning, after much reflection, I decided that as much as I hate adulting and all the money and man problems that come with it, I really, really do not want to be a child again.

I’m serious!

Like come to think of it, there were quite a lot of things that were plain wack about childhood, especially if you grew up in a typical middle class Nigerian home, and if these things are still what the childhood of today is made up of, then I’m good luv, enjoy!

One piece of meat: I still don’t understand how my mother thought it was remotely okay to give us a piece of meat while she fills up her and my father’s plate with more meat than I can count.  Like who needs protein the more – me the growing child, or you full fledged adults? How convenient that the only time they remember we really need protein is when they’re stuffing us with beans. These days I try to make up for the emotional trauma this thing caused me by adding an extra piece of meat every time I’m dishing my food.

My hairbraider’s musky thighs:  Sigh! Why did I or anyone have to go through the torture of having our head shoved between someone’s musky thighs while getting a hairdo? Why? I dreaded the weekends when I had to get a fresh hairdo because of this, and everyone thought I was crying because of a tender scalp. No aunty, that’s not why.

Depending on someone for every goddamn thing: Yes, I do miss having my parents buy me clothes and any or every other thing they thought I needed, but I definitely do not miss having to depend on them for every little thing. I do not miss that the treats and goodies I got were dependent on their whims, mood or special occasions. Nope! Adulthood means I can buy myself cake on my birthday and when it is not, and TBH, nothing beats that.

Curfew: Why the heck did we have to go to bed when we weren’t exactly sleepy while the adults stayed up late to watch TV? Is this not child abuse?

Parents and their petty errands: That thing that parents do where they shout your name like the house is on fire and you come running only for them to ask you to pass them the remote that is barely an arm’s-reach from where they’re sitting, that thing is one of the reasons I’m so thankful for adulthood and moving out of my parents’ house.

Having absolutely no say: I mean I get that you are the parents, and my caretakers (or is it givers), you pay the bills and all what not but ultimately it is MY life, and I should have a say in whether I want to have eba for lunch or dinner. I should have a say in whether I want to go to bed by 8 or 9. Why do you have to make ALL the decisions about MY life for me? You didn’t consult me before bringing me into the world, the least you can do is ask me if I want to go to summer lessons or not. Parenting not military rule, abeg.