Don’t Grow up
For Rosie
Here’s a piece of advice, take it from this old man. You must not, under any circumstances, grow up. The process is horrifying. Do you know what happens to children who grow up? You don’t want to know. But, I’ll tell you. Heed my warning child, what you’re about to hear is scary enough to make a grown man soil his boxers.
When a child reaches a certain age, their parents or guardians are sent a letter from the Queen and it’ll read like this. ‘To the parents of *Insert Sprog’s Name Here*, I, Queen Elizabeth II, understand that your child has reached what we call ‘the turning point’. My condolences. From this day forth your child will irreversibly mutate into a foul beast, known commonly as a teenager. We ask that during this phase of your child’s life you must not allow them to wreak havoc on our fair country. Teenagers are terrible creatures. Good luck, Signed Queen Liz.’
You, of course will never see this letter because you will promise not to grow up into a loathsome teen. The letter from her majesty is the first stage of a long and hideous process. Soon after the letter arrives, pustules begin to grow, red and blotchily, upon the poor creature's face. It’s a curse. The spots are itchy, sore and rashy. The child will cease to look like a lovely, chubby-cheeked flower petal forever. Instead it’s face will look more like a pummelled tomato and it’ll stay that way for years. A few days pass, more boils burst into life on the inflicted skin. Then, the monstrosity will begin to shriek and groan. Everywhere it goes, everything it does. Moaning and wailing, grouching and complaining. So for the sake of all of us, don’t grow up. A Teen’s unbearable grumbling is an unstoppable force - There’s no hope in reasoning with them. There’s no hope for anyone when a teenager is around.
Teenagers become enormous. Of course, I don’t mean wide. Very rarely do teenagers grow wide, usually they grow tall. Suddenly, a teenager will shoot up in height. I’ve known teenagers who grew to be taller than skyscrapers. This ‘Growth Spurt’ is caused by accelerated growth in the bones and it is agony. The bones of a teenager twist and elongate, the teenager writhes and shouts. Before you know it, they’re taller than a house, as if they’ve been grabbed by the shoulders and stretched upwards. No wider, just taller. They look like their bodies are made of elastic and that at any moment they could ping back to a more comfortable height. They don’t. They stumble about on legs much too long for themselves like a newborn fawn, bashing into everything and yelling “Ugh, get out of my way” to inanimate objects.
Once the transformation is complete, before an unwitting parent will slouch a filthy, ragged animal. The gawky teenager will flee into the night and howl; a call to other wild teens. They act in pacts, teenagers do. They droop in clusters along dingy alleyways, outside the local chippy or burger franchise, in the park play areas after hours. Do not approach them, they stink. Avoid eye contact at all costs, they are truly frightening to look at. Worst of all, and I mean this, do not engage in conversation with them. By this point in their mutation they are too far gone to communicate and have learnt themselves a rather complex language of grunts and eyerolls. In most cases they are not aggressive if you leave them be.
Growing up is not pretty, so why even attempt it? Everyone will be much happier if you stay this way forever, so I’ll hear no more of it. If you’re reading this, chances are that you’re far too lovely to grow up so just don’t. Stay innocent and playful, I beg you. None of this grumbling and elongating, you can be inquisitive and short, thank you very much. You won’t be growing up anytime soon, because we’ll miss the days like these. Reading stories, playing make-believe and finding bugs in the garden. So don’t grow up, don’t you dare.