My Kid-dom Come.

Oh darn... its World Childrens' Day... yet another reason for those little imps to run around and scream like insatiable smurfs on Red Bull. Bah humbug and bugger it all.

I'm morose because I wish I was one of 'em... to think that back in the dim distant past I was actually yea high in height and voice and hadn't a care in the world.... not like the clinically depressed and cynical shrew I am today. I could skippety skip skip any which where I pleased, speak any obscenity I wanted to and still be entertained with an 'aww shucks how sweet'.

Thought it might be a good idea this World Childrens' Day to delve into my own childhood, and vomit back some of those dusty memories I'd banked in my mind. Heck, I was a kid once too... I deserve the celebration.

I was not the ordinary kid. Conventionalism and I have never been friends. There's always been that extra streak of inherited strangeness in me that kinda put me into a category of my own in the past, and still does today to a large extent. Born to a family that defines eccentricity, I grew up in plenty of drama, thereby learning to create it all on my own wherever I went.

To begin with, other little girs and I never got along too well. I didn't understand them, and they... well... they just thought I was wierdo. I'm putting it down to the fact that i was brought up with boys at home- lots of male cousins. And I preferred the latter to those prissy madams I was forced to deal with. For the longest time, I adored guns, cars, rough-n-tumble fighting and suchlike, and demonstrated a fair amount of disdain when it came to all those yicky sissy dolls and shit. But my mother's firm rules prevailed, and I was progressively made into a girl by hook or by crook. I eventually grew to like the barbie world... but that was more out of a competitiveness with the school mates than for the pure love of feminine ways.

But the tomboy days were the best, man! How I envied my brother and cousins when they'd dress up like ninjas and thrashed each other at rugby. I, on the other hand, got my ear twisted if I dared to climb a tree. But dare I did, and many a time too! I'd go behind these bamboo trees we had a one of the old homes, and pretend I was Darth Vader battling it out with imaginary Jedi. Many a time I'd sneak into the privacy of my room and dress up like a boy and talk in a deep voice at the mirror. I treasured the times I'd get to peddle like a maniac on my red BMX bike behind the boys in the neighbourhood, and play cricket with them. Mucking around and hurting myself was so much more fun that fussing about with toy teacups!

That's not to say I didn't enjoy my girl moments either. On the contrary, I quite enjoyed playing school and bossing around my tick of a brother in the capacity of teacher, and dressing up and stealing mother's make-up was always a blast.

But it wasn't always about the toys. My dearest childhood memories are those that cost absolutely nothing, but stayed with me forever.

• Spontaneous family picnics
• Dancing in the rain with my father
• Bathing in rivers and water spouts
• Building and flying kites on curfew days
• Plucking home-grown fruit to make delicious achcharu
• Dressing up in Mum's old flower girl outfits and pretending to be a dazzling princess on a white stallion (My dog)
• Collecting newly-laid eggs, with the compliments of our numerous pet chickens
• Gardening veggies in the back yard
• Exploring the eerie attic we once had
• Mutual head-butting with our pet calf Danny

More often than not, even though I did have my kid bro hanging around, the better part of my childhood I spent alone, enjoying the company of my imagination for the lack of friends of my gender. I KNEW alot of girls... just didn't go into too much trouble making friends with them, to the level they did with each other. I couldn't relate to the giggly holding-hands-and-whispering-about-boys thing, and preferred to be the wierd and overdramatic kid. I'd be the one to create some tall story or create some excitement and make them gasp and run away from me... like the time I chewed up brown paper into pulp, stuck it on my teeth and claimed I had leprosy of the gums. Or when I attempted to hang myself with my school tie in protest of the up-coming exams. Then there was the time I set my home-economics room on fire, trying to pass a girl guide cook's test, of all things.

My penchant for drama consistently got me into plenty of trouble as a child. Some of the strongest memories include getting pulled down from the roof of our school canteen while 'striking' about the food they served, being sent to the sickroom with regular fake-fainting episodes, staging protests outside my principal's office demanding the rights of the school cats, releasing frogs from the school lab, etc etc.

Oh there's so much more to talk of, and I wish I could, but sleep and blogspot limitations dictate otherwise. I wish i could go back in time and be that child again... the one who could live in her own little imaginary world and love it there, with little care for the woes of the world. But I can't. I'm supposedly adult now, with responsibilities and baggage.

Ah well... it was good while it lasted. I hope one of those insatiable smurfs gets to do half of what I've done, and lives to write about it someday.