Mashed Potato Clouds And 7 O’clock Bed Times.

As a child I used to think it was a thing to be able to walk on clouds. No doubt instigated from seeing it on the telly, I would genuinely spend time considering this fluffy possibility. Factors like how would I get up there, how would they feel and what happens if I slip through permeated my under double digit cerebellum.

Similarly, I thought a cakewalk and walking on eggshells were just that, too. Like the cloud walk, a cake walk would be soft and spongy, and that’s without any frosting. If I’m stepping in icing then the whole thing takes on a whole new thing.

And eggshells? Forget about it. This would be the most unpleasant notion out of the three, easily. Walking on broken eggshells might as well be running around on shards of broken glass. It won’t end well and my plantar fasciitis will not have improved any either.

Why am I riffing on childhood fantasy of yesteryear? Good query. It could be that any sort of temporary regression is like a vacation from this present covid infected reality. It could also be that creative albeit naive former version of myself demands a place in my grown up world.

Instead of my days filled with lack of sleep, work, typical stresses, chores, parenting and general unhappiness there could be a better days plan for me. Longer, better sleep, ample chunks of time to be creative and an overall overhaul in all aspects of my day to day lifestyle. Sign me up, right?

Might be easier than one thinks. My girls are almost eighteen which means a few things, one of which is greater income every month. This will allow me to spend less time at work and more time pursuing more important things like this writer dream that’s been all but silenced.

Even though they will be official adults I will still need my parenting hat glued to my noggin but less tightly. The path to the empty nest will have begun and I shall use those years to secure my own future. It’s not a foolproof plan or even a well laid out one but it has potential. A journey towards something better, if nothing else.

So let’s return to those days of group naps on those godawful mats. We shall finger paint, have books read to us and eat glue (well, we can at least sniff it a little.) We get to bed early and we eat all our vegetables, slowly. Live in the now but remember the then. This could be the key to the rest of your life. On paper anyway.

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