The First Men called us The Children, but we were born long before them.
Since the last episode of Game of Thrones Season IV and the chapter from The Prophet, I knew I had to write something on “Children”.
True, we are also daughters and sons as much as we are children but, I not only like the collective presence encompassed in “children” but also, I am a child (and daughter) and will continue to be so if I ever have children of my own and moreover, have always considered children as my most favoured age group.
I don’t have children of my own, God forbid I would be so controlling! Lol. I do however have two “virtually adopted children” (or friends). A son who is my older sister’s age and a daughter who is a couple of heads taller than me 🙂 But they are children too, obviously not my own, but you get the point.
I suppose the criticism (if there is any such thing for my blogs! LOL) at this post would be well directed at those children who do not have parents. I cannot empathise, nor will my sympathy do them any good, but they are children too. Some may know it, but some might have been provoked to grow up too fast for reasons not their own.
I once wrote a post on When Adults Fail. I wanted to write a follow-up post on why children failed but did not have the heart (yes I have one of those) to do so. As I said, all children are very precious to me. While I wouldn’t necessarily wish for my own just as at now, children are undoubtedly bundles of joy who light up any gloomy Saturday morning.
On a different note, I am curious to know as to at what point does one stop being a child? Is it when we move out of our parents’ house or comfort zone, get married and have children of our own or not have our parents with us?
I’m not too sure, but from what I seem to realise, we never stop being children. Do parents stop being parents? Well, debatable given that the status of parenthood was “attained” through children, but a child will always, remain a child.
I hope all my babies are having a good week. Happy Tuesday.