The student news site of Clayton High School.

The Globe

The student news site of Clayton High School.

The Globe

The student news site of Clayton High School.

The Globe

Reminisicing on lost childhood

In a vain effort to avoid doing homework, I recently found myself flipping through the dusty comic books stacked in the corner of my room, remnants of a bygone era. As I turned the tattered pages of volumes of “Foxtrot” and “Calvin and Hobbes,” I came to the realization that I never had a real childhood.

Jason and Calvin represent what I see as the ideal life of a child. They have nice houses and good families, but that doesn’t really matter. What is important is that they have a seemingly infinite backyard and a constant supply of gadgets and toys.  And now, as I go through adolescence spending all day in a school desk and all night in my own, I cannot help but desire what Jason and Calvin have. I want adventure, I want spontaneity, I want escapade.

Junior Noah Eby, age 3, gets a hug from his big sister Leah who he shares many memories with.w
Junior Noah Eby, age 3, gets a hug from his big sister Leah who he shares many memories with.w

I want to use a transmogrifier to turn myself into an elephant. I want to have so much fun that I bring it home with me in the form of a hefty amount of mud. I want to form an exclusive club in a treehouse and wear hats made of newspaper. I want to use walkie-talkies to conduct covert operations in my living room, and I want to intimidate and coerce my cohorts with a camouflage helmet that fires a volley of suction darts.  I want to embark on an expedition to the Yukon, departing from my backyard with just a toboggan and a couple of peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.

In the summer, I want to ride a red wagon along a trail through the wilderness, up and down the undulating hills. I want to fish in a pond, I want to play croquet, and I want to meander through the woods aimlessly and without inhibition.  I want to shoot model rockets into the stratosphere, fly kites that I made myself, and send Hot Wheels cars careening along their track, right out of my window. I want to measure how far they flew and how long they stayed in the air so that I can determine how fast they were going.

In the winter, I want to sled down impossibly steep hills only to tumble and roll most of the way. I want to drink hot chocolate and eat cookies in front of the fireplace as soon as I get home. I want to use a jai alai xistera to send snowballs soaring, and I want to build an army of snowmen during the night just to scare the neighbors. I want to put a snowball in the freezer so that, come next summer, I can throw it at my arch nemesis and leave him both unpleasantly icy and utterly baffled.

I want all of this, and yet when I was young I did the things kids are supposed to do. I played Clayton Rec. baseball, I rode my bike around the block endlessly, I had water gun fights in my backyard, and I owned a substantial arsenal of Nerf weaponry. So perhaps it isn’t that I didn’t have a childhood, after all. Maybe I just want another chance.

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Reminisicing on lost childhood