Age is wasted on the elderly

I've decided that it's more fun to be a kid than an adult.

In the interests of full disclosure, I decided this long ago, even before I entered kindergarten. (I was no sucker, going to school before I actually had to...) My mom often tells of a day near my fourth birthday when she asked if I was excited to be turning four. I answered that no, I wasn't, because three was just fine.

I still stand by that answer. If anything, I probably believe in it even more strongly, having now followed up my experience of being a 3-year-old by spending every day for almost a year with a 3-year-old. This was purely for research, of course. I'll be packing him up and shipping him back to the dealer once he turns four.

Seriously though, after all this careful observation, I can tell you that for as much that has changed in the past 20 years, not much is truly different, at least where our nation's 3-year-olds are concerned. Big hobbies still include playing, running, shouting, spouting nonsense, and thinking of cute and unintentionally amusing things to say.

Meanwhile, old people just keep getting older and less fun. This is largely due to a preponderance of unfun activities presented to us as Necessary Parts of Being an Adult. Big hobbies include working, walking at a reasonable speed, muttering, worrying, accruing debt, and thinking things through.

I'd trade my Maturity, Knowledge, and Experience in a heartbeat to live the carefree life of a child, but I'm told it's too late to change teams. (Also, it hasn't worked out that well for Britney Spears.) At least I have some hope, though, because I've heard that one way to mitigate the effects of age is to spend more time with those not yet suffering its ravages, and I've got that base more than covered.