I Resign

I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult.


I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities
of an 8-year-old again.


I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four star restaurant.


I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and
make ripples with rocks.


I want to think M&Ms are better than money because
you can eat them.


I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade
stand with my friends on a hot summer day.



I want to return to a time when life was simple.
When all you knew were colors, multiplication tables,


and nursery rhymes,
but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what
you didn't know and you didn't care.


All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should
make you worried or upset.


I want to think the world is fair.
That everyone is honest and good.


I want to believe that anything is possible.


I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and
be overly excited by the little things again.


I want to live simple again.


I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news,
how to survive more days in the month than there is
money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip,
illness, and loss of loved ones.


I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind
word, truth, justice, peace, dreams,
the imagination, mankind, and making angels
in the snow.


So...here's my checkbook and my car keys, my credit
cards and all my responsibility.


I am officially resigning from adulthood.


And if you want to discuss this further, you'll have to
catch me first, 'cause,