Humor
A Farewell Speech From An Ex-Child
Parting words to prepare children for their ultimate fates
After years of personal growth, I’m finally ready to say it:
I am an ex-child.
I was born into a Korean family with a long history of producing children. Not only my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents had children, but they’d also been children themselves — the record is not so clear on my great great great parents.
While my ancestors had to grow up fast during the Korean war and Japanese occupation, they kept the tradition alive, and my parent’s generation was able to perfect the art again.
I was the baby of this family from the moment I was born. And as early as three years old, I started to be treated like a child.
People began to recognize me in the streets for my spectacular slip and bawl. I was a natural. The moment I slipped, I could assess how much I could milk it and produce maximum tears and snot.
But acting like a child wasn’t all child’s play. There was a constant struggle with the parents who owned the means of reproduction. Young children especially find it difficult physically to stand up for themselves. And the pocket money children got from relatives often disappeared into a so-called ‘college fund’ without a paper trail.
It was a great victory when I introduced a system in which I get paid for everything in a juice box, which is more difficult to siphon off than money.
As someone who spent most of his life as a child, I’m proud of what I’ve achieved so far. The art I produced can be seen all around the house, including the cover of the refrigerator. I made many friends — to namedrop a few, I’m on good terms with the tooth fairy and Santa Clause — and I’ve learned a lot, enough to count up to ten.
As an ex-child, I hope to enjoy the right to drive, vote, drink, and own property. While I sometimes relapse, public meltdowns, falling on my face, and shitting myself are now rare occasions.
Last but not least, as I announce my ex-childhood, I’m happy to hand over my title to the next generation. So here’s to my baby sister Emily — mom, please refill my sippy cup — and thanks to everyone for coming to my five years old birthday.
