Childhood 2.0

Freedom

Somehow, I was now stuck as a child. I had no clue how I went back in time or how I would go back to the time where I belonged. I decided that I would just make the best of it until I found a way of returning to the future. My childhood was good, and I often missed it. Now I had a chance to relive it. It's strange, that as a middle-aged man, I could only remember the good times from my childhood. I forgot all about school being so boring and the bullying. Now I had to experience things like bullying, boring classes and homework. I would have no freedom. An adult would tell me where I was allowed to be and what I was to do.

One good thing was at school recess. I could play football with my friends. This was as time stopped and we just were having fun kicking the ball around. It was a long time since that I had so much fun. We would smile and laugh and be impressed at those that could kick a ball with skill. We would also be serious and were not very diplomatic when a boy was not playing as good as he could. When a boy was criticised, he just shrugged his shoulders and tried better. I was having the time of my life during recess. I had a lot of energy and had so much fun. When the school bell rang, it was a horrible feeling, as we would have to endure more boring lessons.

As soon as I came home, Mom told me to do my homework. This seemed so unjust. Did mom not understand that I spent all day in classes, and the last thing I wanted to do was to do homework. I had no choice but to sit at the kitchen table and open the school books once again. It made me think that when adults were finished with their day of work, they could relax and do what they wanted. When a child was finished with a long day at school, we had to continue working by doing homework. Once again I was trying to figure out how to do Algebra. I tried to remember dates in history. Doing homework was impossible. I was daydreaming most of the time or having hunger pains because I could smell moms cooking. Homework was torture!

After dinner, I was in my room listening to Kate Bush. Going back to the past had one advantage. It was a golden era for music. The radio was a gold mine of great songs. Who could not feel good after listening to Madonna, Prince or Michael Jackson? The music helped me clear my mind and think. I had to think about how I suddenly was reliving my childhood. It was clear by now that this was not a dream. It was reality! When I touched the statue, I was thinking how good my childhood was. The statue must have granted my wish and sent me back to my childhood. If this was the case, the statue was the key to how I could return to my middle-aged self. I did not know how this could be done, but it seemed like it was my only chance.

Mom came into my bedroom and told me that it was time to get ready for bed. She had a diaper and explained that I have been wetting the bed too many times and this was the only solution to save her from washing sheets every day. I protested and cried. When I woke up in bed this morning, it was dry, or was it? With all the confusion, I most likely did not notice that the bed was wet. Mom did not pay attention to my protests. She told me to lay on the bed while she put IT on me. I never felt as embarrassed as I did then. I never did like people seeing me in my birthday suit. When Mom was finished putting the diaper on me, I felt like such a baby. As a middle-aged man, I forgot all about bedwetting when I was a child. I most likely hid it in a hidden part of my brain. Now I had to relive this embarrassing secret. The worse thing was that I had to admit that a diaper worked. I was not sleeping in a puddle when I woke up. The diaper was wet, so I knew that mom would want to continue this treatment. What would my friends do if they knew I was a diaper boy.

On my way to school, I met a girl from my class. Her name was Bethany. We started to talk as we walked to school together. We were laughing and smiling as we talked about teachers and what we liked and did not like about school. We talked about the teachers and the bullies. Bethany told me that she thought that I was cool. She said that most boys would not even talk to a girl. My reaction was that this was ridiculous. Then I remembered that boys were older when they were interested in girls. In my real childhood, I was always shy around girls. I must still have been thinking as an adult, as now I did not feel shy. Bethany thought that I was different and suggested that we should walk to school and walk home afterwards. I smiled when she suggested this and told her that it was a great idea.