I Resign

I Resign

Author Unknown

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 chequebook 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,

"Tag! You're it."