The reality of it all. Growing up sucks.

I remember writing something last year some time but for the life of me, cannot find the damned post.  It was about how, just as my brother Wokkie had lost his last milk teeth he’d carefully wrapped them in toilet paper and placed them into a shoe, clearly expecting to wake up the next morning and find the obligatory ten buck note as a replacement the next morning.

He’d gone about putting a little tiny shot glass of milk out right next to a plate full of bread crumbs and even a little pillow next to his bedside table, much like other kids do for Santa on Christmas Eve.  Later that night, my parents were fast asleep and snoring when my mom suddenly woke up screaming her head off.  Kev threw off the linen and jumped up, totally naked sans his polka dotted sleep shorts, fully ready to take heads off shoulders. 

My mom, by this stage, had jumped right on top of the bed hopping from one foot to the next, hysterically pointing to a little mouse scuttling over the duvet.  As I ran through to their bedroom and took in the scenario, I recalled my other brother Dazz mentioning that he’d “misplaced” his snake’s food.  Yes, you guessed it, a mouse.  Remembering my mothers phobia for the vermin, Kev wasted no time in snatching the creature up by his tail and whacking it against the wall which lead to the mouse being stunned into paralysis.

By now, Wokkie had run through to the room to find out what the commotion was all about.  Looking around frantically, he laid eyes on the dead mouse and with a very confused look upon his face looked from my mom to his dad.  Realisation dawned on him soon enough and with disgust, anger and trauma in his eyes and voice, he screamed: “YOU KILLED THE TOOTH MOUSE FAIRY!”.

Fast forward one year, he tells me that since we killed the last of his childhood fantasies, he cannot believe in the Easter Bunny, because not only is the idea of a fluffly bunny delivering eggs out of a basket “gay” but also, “it’s lame, Sheen, why can’t you guys make it cooler – like Ben Ten or the Pokemon dudes delivering the chocolates or something?” try as I might, I think the littlest one is growing up too fast to believe everything I or the other older siblings tell him. 

Remembering all of this, today I was reminded of why getting older is hard.  Fantasies are replaced with responsibility, imagination is limited by reality and most emo of all, when you’re 25 you don’t qualify for an Easter egg hunt apparently.  I’m quite pissed about that.

Happy day of Jesus dying and rising, y’all.

6 comments

  1. Stalker says:

    Not one person has even aknowledged easter here you post at least reminded me that today is a Special day and that even though they dont have chocolate eggs here I will take this oppertunity to indulge in a choc bar and not go to gym today

    Please email me when you can miss you so much

  2. Gina says:

    You had me rolling on the floor, what a way to wake up.
    Last week a friends 7 year old daughter left a hand written note for the Tooth Fairy Queen detailing how clean and shiny she had left her tooth and how she thinks it would look beautiful on her throne. So I created a ‘letterhead’ for the Fairy Queen and we wrote her a thank you letter. She was soooooo chuffed, she beamed for days after. I hope she doesnt grow up too quickly!

  3. angel says:

    All mine and my sister’s kidlets are now too old for egg hunts- only da Bruvva’s Nathan did it this year. And my knucklehead hunted eggs till he was easily 15 just to please me!
    😉

  4. jubs says:

    HA hahahahahaha!
    this is so typical of your fam babe. i can just picture the look on Wokkies face!!

    Also Pretty pissed at not quailfyng for the hunt anymore!
    i remembered the once that instead of just hiding the eggs and having us search for them, yo actually made and hid clues along with the eggs that lead to “the big stash”! just an idean for pimping up Wokkies next easter hunt 🙂

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