Today’s writing prompt is, Zoltar’s Revenge:
In a reversal of Big, the Tom Hanks classic from the 80s, your adult self is suddenly locked in the body of a 12-year-old kid. How do you survive your first day back in school?
First of all, am I the only one who is getting a tad bit irritated at the first thought of school with these back to school prompts? Hope not. You might have already gathered from my previous posts that I was not so enthusiastic in school as a kid.
With that thought in mind, let’s proceed.
My adult self stuck in the body of a 12-year-old kid sounds like an agony because as much as I’d like to go back to my childhood, I don’t want to live that tormenting life all over again. Sure, I do like to punch those bullies and wannabes—oh and the fake girls who stole my crushes—if I get to go back to the same school and the time period in which I previously studied. The first day of school was always lazy and dreadful. On a lucky day, I’d get to bunk it, if I presented enough back-up to my parents as to why they should avoid sending me to school on the first day.
“The teachers ask us to move desks and chairs and rearrange the whole section in a few minutes!”
“They don’t teach anything on the first day, mom!” Sorry, Mr. Anura, you shouldn’t be teaching math on the first day of school, anyway.
“I have a terrible headache,”—or insert other common diseases of kids who hate school.
If my backup wasn’t bought by my parents, I would end up going to the school on the first day of the semester and have a long face all day. The rest of the semester would be the same. Actually, wait, I didn’t start hating school so much until I was around 14 or 15. As a younger kid in school, I actually liked going to school and everything that it entailed: the friends, the new experiences of learning, meeting wonderful teachers and fun days in art class. So, how the 12-year-old me would survive the first day back in school? I would simply be excited about going to school and get everything ready the day before just like I was when I was a kid. The younger me loved the delightful discussions of “what I did on my holidays” so much that the first day was always a blast because I’d be coming home at the end of the day with all of my friends’ adventurous tales to share with my parents and tell them how my friends loved when I shared about my holidays with them. I’d be waiting for my teachers to start teaching us something, anything, on the first day so I can write on my new books with my new pencils that my parents have bought me. I’d even be excited about the interval because I’d be eating in my new Dora-themed lunch box! Oh, the perks of being a kid! And, yes, I was a bit spoiled.
On the first day of school, I’d be eager to go to school so it won’t be like a tormenting process of surviving. It would be fun and not so bad—except, for the getting up at 6am part. Time to maybe disable that alarm clock and go back to sleep.