I miss my parents...

Last night, I had one of those dreams where I was nine years old again. My dad was a hero, my mom was the love of my life, and my siblings were adorable little tots who thought I was a mini-god.

Life was much easier. My biggest worry was probably our old Windows 95 computer that took nearly ten minutes to boot up. I had no clue what terrorism was, what a job entailed, what it meant to make a budget or pay my own bills, what it was to look for fuel like it was an extraterrestrial liquid, or what it meant to save for the 'future'.

This morning I wished I could go back in time, and be a young child again for a few days. My mom would wake me with a hug first thing in the mornings, and my Dad would ring the bell for morning devotion. Simi would sing all sorts of songs that ensured we would be late for school, and Fehintolu would sleep through the entire thing like the rest of us didn't even exist. I can't possibly get started on the noise, the banter, the fights...

Sometimes I think I grew up too fast. Looking back, I was in such a hurry to come into my own, and leave the nest so I could fly. I was obsessed with 'adulting', and now that I'm here - I have these moments where I don't mind giving it up for a few days.

I'm grateful that I still have both my parents around, and I look forward to escaping to Ibadan sometime soon so I can have a few days of pretending to be a child.

I'll leave you with Mary Schmich's words... "Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future."

Have a fab day.