I want to be a Toys R Us kid

Of late, I'd been thinking of the amount of growing up that I'd done in the past couple of years.

And I realized that it is only with great reluctance that I'm growing up.

Money worries had been egging me. My little monster had been giving me problems, groaning and generally being a PMS-ey woman. Fatigue got the better of me after working 40 days straight. Even my phones are dying on me.

God must be doing his population control thing.

Because no one seemed to be laughing when he took my Ku Chiong away that morning.

And then there was Christie's dad. Jami's dad.

Three deaths in 3 weeks.

No one ever told me that I had to deal with the loss of loved ones. No one ever told me that it was part of the package of growing up.

I want to be 5 years old.

So that I could sit in the swing and it'd take my worries away. So that I could have all the piggyback rides that I want when I get tired of walking on my own.

I don't want to grow up.