When you are little, you look up to those older for advice. You turn to parents, or other adults for guidance. You see them as gate keepers to all knowledge. I remember asking my parents questions about everything, expecting the perfect and simplified answer in return. I would ask everything from “how was the sun made?” to “are we there yet?” All questions answered. Everything easy. Adults were Google.
Now, as an adult, I cannot see myself as the holder of all information. I feel only slightly taller, but not much more knowledgeable than I was as a child. I still have that burning thought to “ask the adult” for answers, instead of turning to Google.
When children talk to me, I rather see myself as one of them still. Wanting to go outside and seek a new adventure. Play until dark. Skip school because I am “feeling sick”. Instead, I drag myself to work and back and have time to “play” on the weekends. Nothing really has changed from child me, just a bit taller and can drive…
It is more as though adults are not adults, they are just bigger kids. Same interests, different field. Same friends, different places. Same face, only older. The life as an adult means bigger toys, more room, and much more shenanigans. The inner kid is on the surface, just behind a desk filed with papers instead of toys.