Where childhood ends…

Today, I have suffered injustice. I now know what it means to be left out, scorned and treated like a second class citizen because of something I have no control over. I feel hurt, hurt by the unfairness of it all.

Since when were teenagers not allowed into the playground without an accompanying younger child? What is this nonsense?

I queued for twenty minutes outside the Princess Diana memorial playground in Hyde Park only to be turned away. Twenty minutes of my life wasted and my childhood ripped away. Not that many years ago, I would climb to the top of the pirate ship, hide in the red-indian tepees and hunt for the closed treasure chest in that playground but today, I was too old.

When it comes to voting, I am a child but all this changes at the playground gates. Why is that?

The ducks didn’t think I was too old for a chat. They understand the insignificance of age better than any human authority.

The irony of it is that I was turned away from a Peter Pan themed playground for being too grown-up.

Peter Pan

“If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I’ll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up! Not me!”

I should have grabbed a few kids from the queue and gone in with them, or claimed to be younger than I am. I should have complained and made a big fuss. I should have never grown up.

Are you ever too old to play? Have you ever been turned away?

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