I have always thought of myself as very young. Now that I’m pushing my mid-twenties, I have to stop and wonder…when WILL I consider myself an adult? Is the time for childish things truly over? Should I throw away my childish hobbies and take up golf?
In the land of things that aren’t my imagination, and thus aren’t quite as interesting, I’m not looking after much younger children. I was tasked with finding an indoor play centre in Sydney that would cater to the needs of our kinder class. Sometimes they get to go on outings, so I was trying to find a place that would accommodate us. It was, of course, child’s play, to turn a phrase. I work at quite an exclusive private school that keeps classes small, and so we only had a party of eight. All i had to do was use my computer knowledge and find an indoor play centre that was open and didn’t look terrible. Then we went for our regular Friday treat (usually the kids are just taken to the park down the road), it was great, and once again I proved that I’m great with kids, despite not liking them very much. I don’t even like kids in cartoons; they always have very shrill voices and they exist to be motivations to their teenage siblings that never really seem to be as motivating as they should be.
In fact, real life children are less shrill, even when they’re climbing around a play centre. The best thing was that there were so many activities that I didn’t have to do much. I should advocate for trips into Sydney to birthday party venues more often. And Mum said I wouldn’t last as a teaching assistant!
Truly, perhaps it is time for me to become adult Dylan. We all must grow up eventually. Probably. Just a bit longer, five more minutes.