I don’t know why I’m so annoyed by this. Maybe because first of all, it’s a duvet and like, don’t draw on your duvet. But perhaps it’s because I’m tired of this trend of “everything you liked in fourth grade” being sold to us in this cutesy-wootsy way (I believe that’s how you spell that). You know what I liked in fourth grade? Reading medical pamphlets. That’s right. Lupus, diabetes, autism, you name it. And I used to steal my mother’s cardigans that she bought from Petite Sophisticates and wear them while watching a VHS copy of The Accused starring Jodie Foster on the weekends.
And trust me, I wasn’t robbed of any innocence at an early age or anything like that. I mean, I got boobs early. And always wanted to be like my parents. So maybe that explains some of it. I did, in fact, enjoy age-appropriate kid things. I owned Barbies and Pound Puppies and all that. But I just have no desire to go back to any of that. And sometimes I feel like the only person alive that isn’t in constant nostalgia for my childhood. I’m not really interested in gourmet food truck popsicles and the new She-Ra live action movie or whatever (if there isn’t one happening, I’m sure it will be soon) or basically anything on this page or drawing doodles on a duvet in marker! That’s not even practical, for good sleeping!
P.S. I refrained from talking about the owl thing because you know what, I kind of hate owls. I had one outside my apartment once that was CREEPY AS HELL and used to stare at me and my friends when we’d come home late, as if it was in judgment of us/ready to poke our eyes out with its predatory murder beak. So don’t put an owl on my stationary, dammit.
Millie for President
Plus, I don’t like this whole idealization of childhood as this relaxed, carefree time. It trivializes the actual experience of childhood. Kids aren’t in charge of their own lives for good reason, but their frustration is real. Kids are assholes to each other. Adults don’t want to tell kids the truth about a lot of things, so they get the sense that everyone is lying and hiding things from them. And, of course, puberty really fucking blows.
Of course there’s happiness in childhood too, but I for one prefer to be an adult.
