*translated from here.
Today is Children’s Day in Portugal (and other places around the world) and it’s a pretty big deal there. For as long as I can remember, Mum would give me yet another book of my choice on Children’s Day (well into my 20s, that’s how long you can play that card, people!). That book felt special though; it carried the importance of a gift that rewarded me for being me – I was a child and that was the best thing ever.
I was a happy child. I was a chatty (and somewhat naughty) child. But mostly, I was happy. I’m not queueing up to go back to my teenage years; I would enjoy another run of my early to mid twenties if I had to, but my childhood? I’d go back to in a second! Time sweetens the memories, of course, I get it. Most adults would be kids again, given the choice, and there’s more proof here, beautifully put for you in Portuguese. So I wouldn’t be alone there, all my family and friends would make an appearance – how cool would that be?
Growing up, you’d hear all the adults tells us to enjoy being a kid, to not speed up the growing up – once an adult, you’re an adult pretty much forever! – and if they were feeling particularly nostalgic they’d throw in a “I was happy and didn’t know it” remark. That always made me laugh, very carefully so I wouldn’t spill the ice cream I had just taken from Dad whilst he was left with the flavour I now didn’t want because his was so much better. How can you be happy and not know it? Haha… silly! I know it, said mini me. But I didn’t, of course!
I was happy and I had an idea I was happy but I had absolutely no clue how happy I was. Oh the freedom of being carefree and happy and thinking three months of summer holidays were a right… My god, let me go back now!
A great part of being a kid was my brother and cousins. We were a small tribe of inventive little people, whose creativity was encouraged and nourished. I remember incredible adventures at my grandparents’ backyard, where the whole world seemed to fit, every Sunday without fail. I remember ghost rooms and obstacle courses and scary stories at my aunt’s. I remember long beach days of invented games and naps and ice cream. I remember my Mum’s food, the best in the whole wide universe (not leaving this one to chance folks!). I remember my brother’s cuddles and knowing I’d never be alone.
Clearly, there were lots of awesome bits about being a kid – LOTS! *insert manic laughter at the thought of not being able to time travel! And having a little brother to enjoy it all with was the cherry on top of my already enormous cake!
Hope you've had a wonderful children's day!