What I Miss About Childhood


Honestly, I don’t miss childhood enough to want to revisit it, but there are things I remember fondly…

Like our little houses made of cardboard and coconut fronds. When we played house in childhood, we didn’t worry about mortgages, rent or about general upkeep of our makeshift premises. If rain interrupted our make-believe we had our parents’ houses to run back into. A call to the dinner table could have gotten us out just as easily.

A home cooked meal was the norm; the aroma almost literally guided us home from school daily. Now the food is fast and unhealthy, not prepared with love but with profit in mind. Cake was a treat then, now it’s not welcomed ‘round those hippy parts.

I miss running without knee pain. Back then I probably would have giggled at the words chondroitin, glucosamine and MSM, now I dare not. I wince instead. As a child, I didn’t have to plan exercise into my day; in fact at dusks, parents had to issue several warnings that we better ‘come indoors or else’. I enjoyed exploring nature, down by the river, up in the hills, climbing trees, sampling from the fruit trees on ‘so and so’s land’. No fruit was forbidden. No place was too far for my then short legs to roam. As a child no one paid attention if the mango juices run down your arm and redesigned your outfit or formed a sticky, funny looking ‘mouthstache’. No one passed judgment if your stomach strained against your already-too-small shirt on account of eating too many mangoes, guavas, sour sops, ackees, tamarinds…

And social networking meant something different back then. It involved some ring games, rounders, hide and seek, hopscotch….

Powered by Plinky


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s