In the 90's I was a child. A care-free, super shy style kid, with bad hair and those really quaint style dresses for little girls that came from the ladybird collection (an UK readers will know what I mean). My biggest worry was which barbie to ask Santa for, deciding on my favourite colour and working out how to persuade my mum to put chocolate biscuits in my lunchbox everyday for school, instead of a banana.
Fast forward to 2013 where the biggest worries of my adult self are somewhat different. Saturday morning has just been spent walking the dog, changing sheets and mopping the kitchen floor. There will be coffee and writing and skype sessions this afternoon. I will be making a feasible budget for christmas gifts but certainly no barbies will be bought. The only thing that stayed the same is trying to decide on my favourite colour. I never could narrow it down.
I remember being 8 and thinking oh wow I can't wait to grow up and be an adult. And now the time has come, I often about what it was like to be a care-free child. To live in a loving home, to play in the garden all weekend, to have dinner cooked for me every night and to not even know what an electricity bill was.
Is the grass greener on the adult side of life?