The Hits: Childhood dreams turn into adult reality

The Hits DJ Adam Green.

Opinion

OPINION:

We all wanted to be adults so badly, didn’t we? As the long school term dragged on, we’d daydream of what we’d do when we got “grown up”.

I can distinctly remember thinking about how I would buy whole blocks of chocolate, and eat them for dinner.

Such a carefree, easy life, when I’m a grown-up. I’ll probably buy a Lamborghini I’d think hopefully while meant to be doing maths. Two dirtbikes, a boat. Maybe be a fighter pilot.

But here I am, a Lamboless lout, that doesn’t even want chocolate for dinner and it’s the slightly more mundane that takes a priority position.

Where once I would imagine flying helicopters to remote fishing spots on the New Zealand coastline, I now daydream of flying down to the bank in the car for a quick catchup about the app and my inability to truly grasp its intricacies, despite the fact it’s been expertly designed to appeal to the everyday Kiwi.

But it was when the topic of lunchboxes came up on The Hits that I realised I truly was becoming a fully-fledged grown-up. You see, a particular brand of lunchbox purports to be leakproof in certain compartments. Allowing you to place things like yogurt in, separate, container-free. How would this work?

I found myself daydreaming away. Surely the kids will open the lid and it’ll go everywhere. Could it go in a schoolbag sideways between a jumper and a library book and still not create a disaster zone?

What about fruit salad? Would the juices escape the protection zone and taint the ham sandwiches, leaving said child lunchless at school? Because heaven forbid they eat a slightly soggy bit of bread.

Leaving the thoughts of soggy sammies behind my mind wandered effortlessly to school stationery.

A scientific calculator was deemed a very important bit of kit, from the time I was in school to now. But I’ve not in my adult life scientifically calculated anything at all, and I’m pretty sure I left mine in my school bag at sixth form and didn’t see another until I purchased one for my daughter, who doesn’t even know what a form is.

At home that evening I turned to hers and pondered if there was any way it could calculate why such mundane things have become the thoughts of importance, and why I don’t have nearly enough money to even fill a Lamborghini’s tank, let alone buy one! I’m not sure I want to be an adult as much as I thought I did!