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I want to be six again.


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


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

I want to stay up on Christmas Eve waiting to hear Santa and Rudolph on the roof.


I long for the days when life was simpler, when all you
knew were your colors, the addition tables, and simple
nursery rhymes, but it didn't bother you, because you
didn't know what you didn't know, and you didn't care.


I want to be happy because I don't know what should make me upset.

I want to think the world is fair, and everyone in it is
honest and good.

I want to think Mommy and Daddy will always be there, and people only die on TV and in the movies.

I want to be six again.

I want television to be something I watch for fun, not
something I use for escape from the things I should
be doing.

I want to live knowing the little things I find exciting
will always make me as happy as when I first learned them.


I want to be six again.

I don't want to see the world as a whole, but rather be aware of only those things that directly concern me.

I want to be naive enough to think that if I'm happy, so
is everyone else.


I want to walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet, and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for.

I want to spend my afternoons climbing trees and riding my bike, and letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist, and how to find the money to fix the car.


I want to wonder what I'll do when I grow up, not worry
what I'll do if this doesn't work out, or how I'll ever escape this crummy job.

I want to have dog I can talk to, or if I can't have a dog,
this caterpillar will do.


I want that time back. I want to use it now as an escape. So that when my computer crashes, and I have a mountain of paperwork, a screaming boss, a depressed spouse, three weeks 'till payday, 11 months 'till vacation, a prostate exam at 6PM, and second thoughts about so many things, I can travel back and build a snowman without thinking about anything except whether the snow sticks together, and what can I possibly use for the snowman's mouth?

I want to be six again.